Ship Of Dreams
by lacksubstance
Summary: Loosely based off the story and film Titanic. Santana, by a streak of luck gets two tickets to the grandest ship. Along with her, her friend Lucy "Quinn" Fabray embark on the journey to New York unaware of what will lie ahead.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Ship Of Dreams**

**Pairing: Brittany/Santana – Brittana, Quinn/Rachel – Faberry (eventual), Finn/Brittany – Fritt, Binn? (I don't know what you'd call them) **

**Summary: Loosely based off the story and film **_**Titanic**_**. Santana, by a streak of luck gets two tickets to the grandest ship. Along with her, her friend Lucy "Quinn" Fabray embark on the journey to New York unaware of what will lie ahead.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own Titanic nor Glee, just the writing.**

_There has been two graphics circling around Tumblr lately about Brittany and Santana on Titanic. Everyone is talking about how it needs to be written into a fic. I've been thinking about it and holding off, until finally I just couldn't let go of the idea.  
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…

_April, 14__th__, 1922 – New York City, New York_

_It was called the ship of dreams._

And yet the more that harbored Brittany's mindset the less it felt that way. She's been there. She's seen the fate of the Titanic and the fate of thousands of people. Some didn't try, others tried and failed to survive. It was no wonder she couldn't call it 'the ship of dreams' when it turned into such a nightmare.

Brittany lived in her rather dinky apartment in New York City. It's been ten years since that horrible day when the Titanic sank. But here she was sitting upon her small, twin sized bed, so you could imagine she made it out safely. The entirety of that situation was false, but she didn't sink to the bottom like majority of the passengers.

For a short time she regretted ever getting on that boat to embark on such a journey to a new life, but just a little over a year ago her regrets faltered as she thought about all that had happened in those four days at sea. What she imagined. What she accomplished. And what she discovered. All of this and more—things that seemed so petty back in her younger years. Sure, she was only twenty-seven, hardly middle aged, but she knew now what she didn't know then—and that was that there's another life outside of these cramped walls she was succumbed to ever since she was a little girl. The world seemed far less suffocating and it was all thanks to one person.

That one person—who she never thought she'd ever associate with, at least not to her mother's standards. But it was a little bit more than association. She smiled at the memory of their touch, of their kiss—she longed for it again as her mind sifted back to the first day.

…

_April 10__th__, 1912 – Southhampton, UK_

Chaos filled the streets of the port of onlookers to see the grandest ship to ever set sail to the seas. Others were staff and awaiting passengers to get upon this large scale and embark on their new lives. America is the freest country, don't you know? Who wouldn't want to live there for a better opportunity?

Cars and carriages seemed to have the worst time trying to get through as they drop off the high class passengers and carry their luggage away to the boat. Among these cars, a set of four people arrive and out steps a tall, dark haired man, with a very wide smile—no doubt amazed at the grand ship before him.

He rounds the corner and opens the door for the other passengers, while his guard, who is also considered his closest ally talks to awaiting staff about baggage. He pulls the door open and outstretches a long arm that is covered by pure white gloves. He takes it gently and out comes a tall blonde, dressed with such elegancy.

She smiles graciously at him as he returns it with adoration. She had the most piercing blue eyes that has ever been seen, especially when the sunlight kissed her skin and blonde locks. She shined like an angel would—because to some, if not most she could pass as one.

She casted her eyes upon the Titanic for the first time and she had to admit that she couldn't understand the hype about it. Sure it was grand in stature, but she wasn't the least bit impressed—it just looked like a ship to her. Maybe she liked simplicity because this ship was definitely not it.

She felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, massaging them gently and behind her stood her soon to be husband. She placed one of her hands above his in a soothing manner.

"What do you think my love?" He asked with his still broad smile visible.

She sighed in contentment. "Would you like my honest opinion?" She moved her stare up at him and he turned his head away from the ship to give her his attention—he nodded like it should be obvious that he valued her opinion. "I don't see what all the hype is about. It just looks like another ship,"

He takes his hands away from her shoulders and looks at her in bewilderment. "Just another ship? Brittany, this is the Titanic. It's the unsinkable ship, not even God himself could sink this ship," he points towards it and she looks right back at it. Her lips went tight and she sighed, before shrugging gently.

He laughs slightly, before leaning down to place a tender kiss on her head. "You will enjoy this journey, just you wait," he assures her before walking off to help his guard with some business. As he walks away, Brittany and her mother take their first strides towards the ship so they can get situated before it's ready to leave port.

…

"Hold still," she grumbled under her breath to the blonde sitting next to her, not daring to move her eyes away from her hand. She's got a good one, but she's a bluffer. She refuses to let her opponents know her truths—she deceives them with those eyes; those dark brown eyes that are as dark as chocolate.

"I can't help it," the blonde responds as her leg continues what looks like a jittery nervous reaction. This is the last hand and sure her and her mate have won quite a bit of cash—cash that they need, but this time it's different. The man before them just bet away two tickets to the Titanic, so you can imagine the blonde's nervous state. But the dark haired beauty, on the other hand was far from nervous. She remained poise and collected—someone had to be.

"Lucy!" there's a yell that snaps the blonde from her hand. "Back to work, c'mon now!" her boss told her as she sighed heavily. She hated that man for calling her by her first name. She hated her parents even more for naming her that.

"This is the last hand, I'll be there shortly," she responds with a slight tone that went unnoticed to him. She turned her eyes back to the cards—she had nothing and she knew this, but that was the point. She had nothing, no good hand, a shitty job, and barely any money to get by. All she had was her friend that sat with her eyes fixed on the cards in her own hands.

"No Lucy, now!" she heard him yell again. She needed this job, so she couldn't make her boss anymore displeased than he already was. She nods at him with her lips tight in a snarl, before he turned away.

"I fold anyway," she tells the two and places them down face down, before looking over at her caramel skinned friend. "Нам нужны эти билеты Сантана," she whispers to her, forcing her friend to finally look up.

Santana smirked at her gently, before responding calmly, non-stressed tone. "No se preocupe. Él tiene miedo en sus ojos y que sin embargo no lo hacen. Volver a trabajar y te prometo que voy a tener buenas noticias para usted más tarde," she replies in a totally different language. Lucy looks at her with slight worry, before nodding and getting up from her seat.

Santana turns back to the man sitting before her. "It's your bet," she tells him as he looks up at her. He licks his lips, before placing some money down then looks back at her with a smirk. She knows he's trying to bluff her out of her own game, but she knows better. It won't work and she refuses to let it faze her.

She bets one last time, not much, but she bets—she doesn't have much money to give, so she tries her best to not waste it. Well with Lucy's job and her singing on the corners for some strangers. They're lucky enough to even have food for the night.

The man puts his cards down with a satisfied smile, crossing his arms just to wait for the chance to con a young, attractive girl out of her money. "Well Mike that is quite the hand. Three pair—not bad, not bad indeed," she commends him and he takes it in with grace, before she places her hand down.

"Unfortunately for you, I'm just a little better at you at this game. Say greetings to my full house," she tells him. His smile fades and his eyes widen. He has to look over the table to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He looks back up with his mouth jarred in disbelief. Santana smirks at this reaction—milking every bit of it.

"You told me you couldn't play! You gypsy!" He yells angrily, before she laughs heartedly.

"Oh the contrary Mike, I am not a gypsy. I'm just a liar when it comes to money and apparently tickets. But listen, I didn't steal it. I won fair and square, therefore you shouldn't be such a sore loser," she retorts, scooping the money into her hands and placing it in her pocket, before grasping her hands on the tickets. "Mike, Mike, Mike, what would your wife say when she discovers your little trade?" She smirks, before rising from the table as Mike sulks in his sorrows.

Her smirk never falters as she walks towards the bar right as Lucy comes out with a tray in tow. She sighs heavily—she was sweating and she just felt absolutely filthy, therefore she desperately hated this job. As she notices Santana approaching her, she quickly gives two customers their drinks and politely tells them to enjoy, before turning back to Santana.

"Well how did it go?" She rubbed her hands dry on her apron, before walking back towards the bar.

Santana shrugged slightly. "Well it was tough and I mean—at least we made off with about ten dollars," she told her in a gloomy state.

Quinn down casts her eyes before raising them to fix on her friend. "Santana, you told me you could handle it! You told me that you would be able to get the tickets and we could leave this god forsaken country! I want to go home okay? I want to have a better life in America, you know where we're both born and raised for fuck sakes!" She belts out in fury. She was at her wits end with this place. Why she even left America to begin with, she'll never know. Maybe for a sense of adventure or responsibility—whatever the reasons were, she hated to think, but she felt stupid for wanting to come here.

"Quinn, look I'm sorry!" Santana plays along, before finally coming clean. "You're going to have to quit your job because we're going back to America!" She yells to her enthusiastically, popping the tickets out from her back pocket to flash into the blonde's face. Quinn's mouth gaps at them and grabs one, before pulling her apron off and tossing it on the counter.

Just as she does so, her boss runs out to see what all the commotion is about. "Lucy! Apron needs to be on at all times!" He roars with a scowl. He hates having to tell the girl countless times of her mishaps.

She turns around to him and smiles. "I quit because I'm going to America," she tells him before turning back to Santana.

"La, la, la, la, la America, la, la, la, la, la America," they sing in unison as they dance happily to bask in on their winnings. Quinn even grabs the hat off the top of an older man's head and places it on her own—it's a snug fit, as she dances around the table. He gawks at her with amusement, before their celebration is cut short with the man speaking.

"Titanic leaves for America in five minutes," they stop short, before glancing at the wall clock. Their eyes widen in horror—they could not miss this ship. So Santana runs out of the pub with a duffle in tow while Quinn places the hat gently back on the man's head, before running behind the bar to grab her things, then off to catch up to Santana, who wasn't that far ahead.

Finally catching up to one another, they run through the large crowd of people and carriages, before Santana's excitement begins to set in. "We are the luckiest son of bitches in the world, you know that?" She tells the blonde, who nods while she continues running.

"We won't be if we don't get there in time, so keep up," she retorts, before they run through the final bit of the crowd. As soon as they get a clear view of the ship and its bridge, they spot one of the shipmen about ready to close the door. They speed fast up the bridge, yelling for him to stop.

"Have you been through the inspection?" He asks, looking at their tickets and their states. Both breathing tirelessly and slightly disheveled.

"Of course and at any rate we're American—both of us," Quinn replies to him as he does a double take at Santana.

"Speak," he commands to her. She gets a look of confusion on her face. Why does she have to speak? She was positive foreigners were on board.

"What would you like me to say, sir?" She asked, before he waved for them to go in, so he could close the doors. Apparently that question alone was enough for him as she spoke fluently and with no accent.

…

The boat roared as it begins to leave port. People on the deck of the ship wave goodbye to those still on the port's deck. It was likely that nobody knew anyone they waved at, but everyone clearly had turned up for the ship's take off for its maiden voyage.

In the first class suites, Brittany read carefully from one of the many poetry books she brought along for the journey. She imagined during her down time, she could engross herself in such material. Everything seemed so much simpler when she read poetry. So many men and women had such a fluent way of putting a simple feeling or object into an in depth perspective—it captivated her. But then again, she's never met such people, so the only way to believe in its existence was to read the work of these artists.

She dreamt of creating her own, but every time she's tried it never seemed to flow as well as the ones she's read. When her eyes took in the words that flowed from page to page, she understood—most were about love, the kind of love she desperately craved for.

Granted yes, she was engaged to be married to the dashing Finn Hudson in the next few days when they made it to New York, but that wasn't something she wanted. He was security—her mother adored that, but that didn't seem to catch her interest nearly as much. For once, she wanted to be able to live life spontaneously and not know where she'll end up with someone she cared about dearly, but she knows that would never happen because Finn is a very wealthy man—he would take care of her financially.

"She always engrosses herself in such fantasy material," Brittany could hear the man she was about to marry talking openly about her, but she just showed disinterest. She was aware of his and her mother's stares in her direction, but she didn't feel like being judged.

"I suppose it keeps her sane," she hears the reply from the woman who birthed her, then a laugh followed behind.

"They were a waste of money. Talking about such love that probably never exists," he replies. This brought Brittany's attention into full focus. She closes the book with one hand, then gets up from her seat to cross the room towards the two figures.

"Are you trying to insinuate that wanting to be held and caressed like I'm actually worthy of something other than a trophy in a glass case is a fantasy?" She holds the book protectively to her chest—like her heart depended on keeping it close.

Finn smiled that smug smile she absolutely detested. "You're living in a fantasy love. Women are lower on society for a reason," he tells her, before placing a single kiss on her forehead then walks off to the other room.

She casts her eyes down in hurt. She wanted—just once, to feel something; anything other than trapped in a life that didn't consist of feeling worthless.

…

Quinn and Santana walked through the crowd of passengers to their room as others tried desperately to do the same. They knew what to expect, but they've endured much worse than sharing a room with two other people. Quinn was slightly ahead when she finally found it and pulls Santana in with her. There they come across two other Asians as Santana begins to laugh slightly.

"Who knew we'd be sleeping in a room with Asians?" She mumbled to the blonde in front of her, who just elbowed her in her stomach, laughing slightly.

"I did," she whispers only to have Santana laugh as Quinn throws her duffle on the top bunk. Santana gives the two, a man and a woman a once over, before smiling slightly.

"Santana Lopez, nice to meet you," the least she could do was be nice since they'll be sharing a room for this entire trip. They shook her hand confused, before she threw her stuff in the bottom bunk. Santana stood up on her bunk, before pushing Quinn playfully in the side. "Who said you could get top bunk, huh?" Quinn laughed before slapping her hands away. "Don't have any wet dreams tonight," she adds, before Quinn slaps her again, only this time harder.

Santana just merely smirks, before plopping down into her own bunk. She was really excited for this new beginning. Sure, she was born and raised in America, but when her parents died, she was on her own. She didn't run into Quinn until she was fourteen and by that time they were already overseas. Santana was singing on corners and dancing—basically like a gypsy, but she swore to never pick pocket or steal from anybody. Any money she got she was going to earn it fairly. It wasn't until a year later when she started playing poker. She was a natural at the game and as she continued to play, she began winning more and more. Her and Quinn began living off that, but suddenly it wasn't enough to just earn that kind of money, when you had to just either move from couch to couch and sometimes hide under a bridge just to keep from getting drenched in a torrential downpour, so that's when Quinn got the waitressing position at that pub. At sixteen, things were beginning to look up in the best way possible, however Santana always craved for more, but at the same time she loved not having any responsibility and the spontaneity of her life. She only hoped she had a better shot when she went home.

* * *

><p><em>First chapter is done, so let me know what you think. I mentioned on Tumblr that it will be loosely based off the movie, where some scenes from the movie are in place (ex. the minor poker scene, finding their new bunk) it's all just revamped into my style. The history will be the same and the historical people (ex. Molly Brown) the thought of replacing the original historical figures just leaves me thinking I'm being disrespectful. At any rate, again please let me know what you think.<em>

_And Locked Up will continued to be updated like normal._


	2. Chapter 2

_New chapter. Thank you for the kind reviews and alerting. I'd like to point out that I do not own 'Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day', evidently we know that Shakespeare wrote that. But everything else that's written by Santana is written by me. Thought I disclaimer it now. Anyway, enjoy and review :)_

..._  
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_April 11__th__, 1912_

_-The crisp air succumbed her with a simple blow. The sun kissed her skin, giving her a simple glow. Her heart was full of want, but in the midst of it all there was hate. With her eyes full of despair she watched beyond with no compare. – Santana Lopez_

…

The beginning of the day for Brittany started like any other. She would rise from her bed, letting her nightgown fall to her ankles; she would dress properly and head to breakfast to have a nice meal with her mother and fiancé. It was a rather boring tradition she'd like to add, but maybe that was because the rest of the day would carry on the same way. Striving for something more, knowing deep in your heart you wouldn't get it, was all on its own heartbreaking.

She sipped at her tea quietly as the rest of the table filled with just that. Finn was looking through some files for work being that he was a junior partner at his father's firm. A rather honor it is, however when you're born into money it's not so difficult to keep it. However, Brittany never voiced those thoughts because she knew where she stood with the men in her life.

"I thought we could have tea later this afternoon with the girls," her mother sounded, causing her to lift her eyes up towards her mother's awaiting blues—no doubt she had her mother's eyes. As much as she wanted to decline, and don't doubt for a second she wasn't about to try.

"Of course she'd love to go," Finn beat her to the punch, giving her a fake smile with stern eyes. She knew the difference—she's seen it enough. So instead of responding she just smiled back at her mother and nodded like a good proper lady would.

"Wonderful, now what else do you have planned for today, Brittany?" She didn't really think about it to be quite frank. She supposed she could tour the deck or just read aimlessly. However, she wasn't sure if her mother and fiancé would go for that. They're already giving her a hard time about it.

"I'm sure I'll find something to do," she just simply states, before excusing herself to get dressed for the day ahead—not that there was much to do, but a first class woman always looks her best.

After her maids helped her place on a simple day dress, while tying the strings as tightly as possible she grabbed hold of her book. She looked through the suite for a moment to see if she could find Finn before she left so she could kiss him goodbye, but it seemed he had already left. So with a slight shrug, she bid farewell to her mother then left.

She strolled along the deck, her eyes peeled down at her book. Each word continued to captivate her after the last as she read onward. It was simple poetry mostly—not that anybody else in her circle seemed to understand. It grieved her a little that even her own mother was opposed to her reading. It was literature—the oldest, most loving literature and yet her mother had such a distaste for it.

Her father is the one who bought her, her first poetry book. It was Shakespeare no less, but she hung on to every line—to every stanza like her life depended on it. She only grew completely infested in its nature when her father fell ill. She was close to her father, so when he passed and she began grabbing as many poems it was like her father was still with her somehow.

She finally stopped and placed her arms on a railing, that overlooked the bottom part of the ship—where the lower classes conversed and sat, and continued to read. So invested, that she didn't notice a pair of eyes looking up at her.

…

Santana awoke rather early, wanting to get an early start on the day, even though she knew there wasn't much activity on the boat that catered to their class; however she didn't want the daylight to go to waste. So she hit Quinn over the head enough with her pillow to wake the blonde from her deep slumber and she almost regretted it when she saw a spot of drool and her bedhead—it wasn't flattering, according to Santana.

After dressing in the clothes from yesterday since they didn't have much, they made their way out to their deck, knowing the higher deck was for the first class passengers and they'd be scolded if they disobeyed that rule.

They sat down on a bench that was built in off the side of the boat, which overlooked the water. Quinn marveled in its beauty, letting the wind flow through her hair carelessly, while Santana sat back and began to write. She told herself she should give up on writing, but when Quinn found her book laying around and swore (though Santana knew differently) she didn't open it, Quinn basked in the compliments and even with Santana's confidence, that wasn't enough to teeter her to believe she was capable of writing magnificence.

Santana glanced around the entire deck for a moment, taking in her surroundings. Among Quinn and her, there was a family with children, running around, playing typical childish games. Next to her stood a brunette with long flowing hair; she leaned against the railing, with her back arched slightly to bask in the sun of a beautiful day. Santana can attest to this—today was certainly a beautiful day. As if her eyes were deceiving her—and perhaps she shouldn't have even looked upwards, there stood a beautiful (as Santana would call her) angel.

The sun kissed her bright locks and Santana could easily tell she was taller than she, but definitely no way older. Her eyes were sucked in a book—Santana couldn't tell what, but she was really fascinated in its words that she never once bothered to look up.

For a moment she thought she might, but all the blonde did was tilt her head to the side, so she could continue reading onward.

Santana finally looked back down at her notebook. A small smile grazed her supple lips and like that, the words seemed to flow quite simply and when they did, they didn't stop.

_Beyond the depths of the sea. Cool air and crisp sun. Never have I seen such beauty. Is she human or simply a mirage? A figment of my imagination? And yet, casting my eyes upon her—it is impossible. She is as real as my eyes can see. They would not deceive me. Has she come to save me? In captivation, I will never know. For she is impossible to reach. Never will I embark on such a beauty—an angel such as thee._

"Can I bum a smoke?" Those words snapped her eyes up and there was the brunette, who had her back arched just a moment earlier. It only took a moment for her words to register when Quinn leaned over Santana's frame, holding her pack out with one slightly out of place.

The young woman smirked and let her lips cover the bud. Quinn smirked at the gesture and it was almost too easily returned as Santana threw her lighter in the girl's direction. Santana didn't care much for the flirtatious advances—thinking they were rather childish and trivial, so she was thankful when her small action snapped them out of it.

"Thank you both," the woman replied as she lit her cigarette, then handed the lighter back to Santana.

She blew out the smoke and Santana went back to writing, but now she couldn't seem to concentrate because of the entire interruption. She lifted her eyes upward and noticed Quinn staring over at the woman's direction. Her eyes widened in absolute disgust, but she didn't voice it, but simply shook her head and jabbed her in the arm.

"Perhaps speaking to her instead of watching her would be better. You look like a stalker," she tells her friend, who narrows her eyes in a glare and was about to respond when…

"So what brings you on the Titanic?" The woman speaks casting her eyes on the duo, holding the cigarette between her fingers.

Santana was about to respond when Quinn decided to interrupt. "Oh, you know, a new life and all," and with an arched eyebrow, Santana judged her blonde friend ever so gently. The girl has spoken to all kinds of people, but could not to this one woman. Santana was aware of Quinn's immediate attraction, but even she can handle speaking to a woman she found just as, if not more attractive.

"Right of course. Well New York is my home, so I'm only returning because my father is ill and my mother needs as much help as she can, even if she is completely set against it. However, I'd love to sing on Broadway just once since it just opened last year. My mother spoke so highly about how all of New York was buzzing about it," Santana knew immediately that this young woman was going to talk their ears off, but for Quinn she didn't look like she minded it—in fact she seemed even more interested than before.

"That sounds quite amazing. I imagine you're a wonderful singer. Santana here, sings quite beautifully herself," Quinn pats her shoulder, only to have her hand swatted away—Santana didn't like the compliments when they perhaps weren't accurate.

"Oh wow that's fantastic. Perhaps, we'll have to duet while we're on our journey. Oh excuse my manners, I'm Rachel—Rachel Berry," she offers her hand out and Quinn grabs it gratefully to finally know this remarkable woman's name.

"Quinn Fabray," she smiles. "And that's Santana Lopez," pointing at her mute friend. Rachel smiles and leans back, before questioning.

"So are you both American?" Santana looks up at her with a scowl—she detested when people assumed she wasn't American just because of her skin tone.

"I didn't know I had to be White to be considered American," Santana commented as Quinn pushed her, hinting she was being rude. Santana glared at her and Quinn returned it.

"Oh! Santana, I'm sorry that's not what I was insinuating. You haven't spoken since we've met, so I thought I'd ask. I figured you both were, but I didn't want to be wrong in case you didn't understand me and such," Rachel apologized frantically, knowing she had offended the brunette—which evidently wasn't her intention.

"It's fine, but yes we are—we're first generation Americans though. So we're bilingual," Quinn responds for Santana, whose anger was slowly dissipating yet still present.

By this time, the conversation silenced in Santana's ears and she finally looked back up where she saw the angel a moment ago. She was elated to know she was still there reading—just where she had left her. She closed her notebook and placed her pencil in the page, then stared up at the beauty that became her muse.

Just once she wanted her to look up—just once. She wanted her to notice her—even if it was just for a moment. That mere moment would be enough for her. Never has she been so transfixed so quickly with a woman, so that must count for something.

She continued to stare up at her, never once letting her eyes falter, when suddenly with a simple flash—the woman (angel) glanced up from her page and looked down upon Santana. She looked away instantly at the sight of Santana staring back at her in an obvious manner. She even looked back in hopes that the other woman in the below deck had turned her gaze away—but she didn't; not once.

Santana could tell when she looked away for the second time—she blinked frantically, almost as if she was recollecting her thoughts or herself in general. Santana couldn't contain the small smile that began to form across her lips.

"You'll never get close to the likes of her," Rachel's voice seemed to flow back into her ear, ultimately forcing her to tear her eyes away from the top deck to look in her direction.

"What makes you say that?" Santana challenges and Rachel simply lets out a shrug.

"Girls like her don't fraternize with girls like us. She's at the top of the hierarchy and we're nothing but mere peasants—just the way the world goes," Santana sighs and even if she didn't want to believe Rachel's words, they held truth and logic.

This girl that she's casted her eyes upon was never going to be hers.

…

Brittany placed her finger under her chin as she continued to read. She may have read this particular poem on several occasions—but it was one of her favorites.

_Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date…_

Quite possibly the most well known Shakespearean sonnets ever written and yet she hated to be cliché, but she loved it. This book brought her so much warmth when she needed it most. During this difficult time in her life, where she should be elated about getting a chance to start another chapter in her life with a man who loves her—she's not satisfied. Having Shakespeare—but more so her father along for the journey is the only reason she's not jumping off this boat.

She lifts her eyes up from the page and scans the bottom deck. She smiles at the three children running around chasing one another aimlessly. She wanted children, but could she possibly have them in such unhappiness? She panned her vision around the deck and suddenly they landed on a young woman—and she was looking right up at her; almost concentrating on her.

Her eyes widened at the sudden interaction, then moved back down. Why was she staring? What could she possibly be looking at? Perhaps envy? Brittany didn't want anybody to be remotely close to envious of her. She honestly felt there was no need to be. In fact, she was envious of them—the people down in that deck. At least majority of them got to choose who they fell in love with and there was no rule or consequences behind it.

Brittany glanced back up, hoping she was no longer looking at her, but when she lifted her head—the woman was still in the same place, wearing the same facial expression casting her eyes upon her. Brittany gulped loudly, though she knew the woman couldn't hear her and lowered her eyes back to the book. She blinked a few times, trying to get control over her thoughts—her heartbeat, which was growing more rapid by the second.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl smiling—almost laughing slightly, before returning to a conversation with two other women near her. Brittany thought the girl was beautiful—didn't wear the normal female attire—more masculine than any, but she thought she was beautiful. She seemed carefree and carried herself with such simplicity.

And she interpreted all of this about the young woman with just two glances.

…

That night, Brittany made her way into the suite just before dinner and instantly was met by two glaring people, her fiancé and her mother. She discarded herself of her light cover, and would've made it to the room to dress for dinner, when a voice stopped her in her tracks.

"You missed tea with the girls," her mother spoke. She inhaled a breath and closed her eyes tightly—she had forgotten. She had been so absorbed in her reading and walking the deck that she had forgotten to meet her mother with the rest of the ladies—not that deep down in the pit of her stomach she was all that displeased about that.

She turns and faces them. "I apologize mother. I seemed to have forgotten and got—well sidetracked," she shrugged apologetically. Her mother eyed her carefully, before nodding to signal it was alright—but Finn on the other hand wasn't going to be swayed that easily.

He walked over to her and grabbed the book out of her hand. Brittany's eyes widen in horror, unsure of what he was planning to do. He held it firmly in his hand then threw it in the open fire. Brittany's mouth gapped open and tears welled up in her eyes. She ran to the fireplace desperately trying to take it out, only to have Finn wrap his arms around her waist—he wanted her to watch it burn.

"_How could you?_" She yelled, fighting desperately in his grasp.

"Brittany! It is a book! You need to stop with all these imaginary thoughts that these people write about! You forget the outside world when you open these books! There is another life out there, but you have to be willing to take your face out of pages and walk in it!" He argues finally letting go of her. The book has turned mostly into ash by now.

Her eyes are stinging with overflowing tears. She's shaking uncontrollably and finally turns around to face her fiancé and her mother, who is sitting on the couch watching the entire thing—she's wanted someone to tell her this for years and she thinks she might have been gotten through to, when Brittany lands her hand into Finn's face.

She looks at him with her bottom lip trembling. "That was the only thing I had left linking me to my father," she seethes to him and walks around the couch out the door.

Finn stands there almost frozen—maybe feeling a tad guilty, but he turns around to face the older blonde like he wasn't fazed a bit.

"You should go after her," he tells her, before making his way into one of the rooms to continue dressing for dinner. The older woman sits there a moment longer, before doing as she was told.

…

Brittany walked to the stern of the boat with red eyes and cheeks visible if anyone had seen her. She was hurt and she was angry—nothing could forgive him for what he had just done. Maybe he was right that it was just a book, but it was so much more than that to her. He didn't know—he didn't understand and he never would.

She stepped up on the rails and flipped her legs over the railings—and she sat on top of it. There was no seat close enough to overlook the now black sea due to the sun setting two hours ago. She realized months ago that she didn't want to marry Finn—she never wanted to, but it's what her mother wanted. Every time the topic of engagement came up, Brittany kept pushing it off—what could she say? Her mother wanted herself and Brittany to be well taken care of, especially since her father's passing. She was raised with two different thoughts, money bought you happiness and life from her mother's teachings, and love is all you need in life—it'll bring you the wealth, her father's teachings—she believed in her father's morals than the older woman's.

"Brittany. Brittany," she didn't hear the voice—it was rather far away and then it got closer. "Brittany. Oh my Lord Brittany!"

She turned her body and with the temperature drop, the rail became slippery and the next thing both blondes realized, Brittany had slipped off the top rail and was holding on to the attaching metal.

"Ah! Help me!" Brittany screamed loudly, knowing her mother was there but couldn't do anything.

"Oh my God, Brittany! Somebody please! Help my daughter!" Her mother yelled—she was helpless. She didn't know what to do. She only wished that someone would come and help—anybody.

…

Santana heard the calls for someone named 'Brittany' and ignored them. She heard the slight scream of 'oh my Lord Brittany' and ignored them, and then she could no longer ignore the voices or the calls, when they turned into pleads for help. She was laying on a nearby bench, looking up at the stars—something she'd do with her father. She felt as if she did this it brought her closer to him when she needed him most.

She sat up and ran over to the screams and saw an older blonde woman, screaming for help—but she ignored her and ran forward to the stern. She could see a hand grasping the bottom part that hinged into the deck.

She sighed heavily—she had to help, so she pulled her jacket off and ran over to see the woman from earlier—_her angel_. She sprang into action quickly, throwing her leg over the railing, followed by the other.

"Are you crazy? You're going to get both of you killed!" Brittany's mother yelled, before Santana turned her head and casted her eyes on her.

"If you have any better ideas, then please feel free to voice them!" She yells—not intentionally, but she felt as if she was running out of time. She had to save her—she just had to.

Santana guided her feet carefully down to the wood of the deck and held her hand out for Brittany to take. Brittany look at it terrified, before shaking her head.

"Please! You'll fall if you don't!" Santana shouted over the rippling of the waves—by this time Brittany's mother had wandered off for more sufficient help—perhaps strong men.

"No! I could pull you off too!" Brittany sobbed as Santana shook her head frantically, with a pleading look in her eyes.

"You won't, I promise. Just trust me, give me your hand and I'll pull you up," Santana assured her. Brittany looked her in the eyes and Brittany saw nothing, but trust and fear for her. So she sighed and lifted her hand up, clasping it instantly with Santana's. Brittany was most definitely not heavy, so pulling her up wasn't a hard task—but with one hand that's a different story.

Santana grunted, pulling her arm completely around the railing to hold them both up. Brittany managed to get her other hand around Santana's wrist, while the other young woman took steady steps over the railing. Brittany was terrified, but just watching Santana with her eyes tightly shut and her groaning in what looked like pain just to save her—it was remarkable and at the same time it made her feel safe.

Santana got to the third railing and placed her arm that Brittany was holding close enough to it so she could grasp it, and she did. Santana climbed over and pulled Brittany over it and with eagerness, Brittany tripped over it and landed on top of her rescuer.

Santana's chest heaved in exhaustion as Brittany's chest heaved in almost terror—but it was over. Santana looked at the blonde, finally getting her breathing under control.

"Are you alright?" She asked her in a caring, concerned manner. Brittany breathed out what sounded like relief or laughter.

"I should be asking you the same thing," she replied and for the first time since their encounter, Santana smiled and so did Brittany.

"What's your name?" Santana asked, both unaware of their position at the moment.

"Brittany Susan Pierce,"—she finally gets to know her angel's name and she smiles fondly at it, wanting to remember it always.

"Santana Lopez," she breaths out, which Brittany smiles shyly—and maybe even glanced down at her slightly parted lips, but she didn't think much of it when…

"Brittany! Brittany!" The sound of frantic footsteps on the wood deck and a man with a few other men, and an older woman come to their side.

"Get your filthy hands off my fiancée," Finn grumbles, pulling Brittany up and away from Santana who soon rises at the commotion. Brittany is covered with a blanket and brought to her mother's side, while Finn walks over to Santana and looks at her with a venomous glare.

"What makes you think you can touch her that way?" He asks as Santana glances over at Brittany, who was being held by the older woman, who was checking her for any signs of bruises or cuts—or emotional trauma.

"I pulled her over the railing and she slipped," she explained to the man, before he slapped her across the face.

"Finn!" Brittany yells as she pushes her way out of her mother's grasp. Finn looked back at his fiancée and she had a determined scowl. She's never stood up to him like this before—she was obviously still angry with what she had done earlier, but slapping the woman who saved her life was only fueling it further.

"What happened?" He asked more calmly and rationally. He didn't apologize for giving Santana a red welt on her cheek; in fact he didn't let his eyes land on the Latina any time after.

"I was sitting on the top railing. Mother came out and startled me, and I slipped. She came to my rescue, so you should be thanking her not placing your hands on her!" She told him and he sighed deeply—she was right. Sometimes Finn Hudson was a reasonable gentleman.

He moved his attention back to Santana, who was rubbing her cheek harshly—it stung a lot deeper than she imagined. "Thank you for saving my love. Perhaps, you can come to dinner with us tomorrow night. Least we can do, knowing you couldn't possibly be getting well fed in steerage and here's a twenty for your efforts," He explained, holding the bill between his fingers.

Santana grasped it hesitantly at first, before nodding her head at the offer. He gave her a side smile, then walked with the rest of the crowd he brought with him. Before leaving, Brittany walked slowly to Santana's side.

"I owe you my life," she whispers to her, but Santana shakes her head, placing the money in her pants pocket.

"No you don't. You deserve life," she utters as she takes steps towards her jacket to grab it and place it on her outstretched arm.

Brittany walks with her, placing her hand gently around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. "I have none. It's better to be indebted to you than not having one at all," she replies quietly, before walking off to catch up to her mother, leaving Santana slightly baffled at the sudden confession.

...

_Remember to review. Thank you guys!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN: Before you begin, I apologize for the delay on this chapter. I will update more frequently when I head back to Florida. Thank you all for the reviews and alerts, enjoy this chapter.**  
><em>

_April 12__th__, 1912_

_-In her darkness, it consumes her every being. It swallows her whole turning her into nothingness. She's lost herself in this world. Her cries for help are overpowered by the static. Who is going to be there when she falls? –Santana Lopez_

...

Proceeding down to the third class lower deck, Santana couldn't stop her mind from whirling about Brittany. She didn't really mean to compare her from the moment she first laid eyes on her to the moment she saw her hanging off the boat, but it just transpired that way. It was evident that she would since those were the first and last times she truly saw her.

Then her mind went elsewhere, to her words; _it's better to be indebted to you than not having one at all. _Sincerely she felt a strange sense of remorse. The girl had it all, the extravagant clothes, accessories, cars, and could only burden herself with more when she marries her strikingly dashing fiancé. In a way, Santana could feel the jealousy in the pit of her abdomen swirling around on a nonstop cycle; not for her, but for him. She didn't love the girl, but she knew if given the chance she would do everything in her power to make her feel worth something; _anything_.

Santana turned the corner and walked through the corridor to the showers. There sat multiple stalls and as much as she hated to admit it, this would be the first actual shower she's had in a long time. Other times, she and Quinn would wait till closing at the pub or schools and just sneak back in, in hopes of rinsing off.

One of the other showers were running and as she stripped herself of her clothes a head pops out of the stall and she is instantly met by a pair of hazel eyes she knows all too well.

"How was your walk?" Quinn asked with a bar of soap in hand, washing her body down in full view of Santana.

"It was—interesting," Interesting seemed to be the best way to describe her night's escapades, because even _she_ couldn't figure out how this all made even remote sense. Santana slid into the shower stall next to Quinn's and Quinn popped her body back in, letting the warm water cascade down her body.

"Why interesting? Did something occur you don't want me knowing?" Quinn asked running her limbs under the water to wash away the loose soap.

Santana ran her head under the water, sighing into the contact—she didn't ask for much, but this shower was truly heaven to her skin. "Not per say, I just can't even explain all that happened," Quinn stopped her motions to take in what her best friend just said with confusion and when she didn't respond Santana knew why. "You remember that girl, the blonde from the top deck?" Santana asked, running her fingers through her hair, making sure the shampoo really got into her roots.

"The blonde that you couldn't take your eyes off of?" Quinn asked knowingly placing a smirk upon her lips. "But of course,"

Santana rolled her eyes, placing her head back under the shower head and washed her hair of the shampoo. "Well I—I sort of saved her life tonight," she mumbled and suddenly her stall curtain snapped open and Quinn hopped in with her, eyes wide in utter disbelief.

"I want details now," Quinn demands up front, crossing her arms across her bare chest. Santana rolled her eyes yet again and grabbed the bar, washing her body; looking down as she did so.

"It was nothing, okay? She slipped off the top rail and she was screaming, I ran to her and pulled her back up, like I said nothing," Santana brushes off, placing the bar back down and Quinn continues to stare at her with shocked eyes and a gapped mouth. "You catching flies there Lucy?" She smirks, running an arm under the water.

"Oh so she's a loony, I get it. She was just relaxing, taking in the cool air and starry night, before deciding to jump ship, yup totally understand," Quinn shrugs, pulling Santana out from under the shower to get in. The air was freezing and Quinn was determined to stay as warm as possible.

Santana wasn't sure why Quinn calling Brittany a crazy person bothered her so much, but it really did fuel anger within her stomach. "Don't talk about her like that. I don't address Rachel that way nor should you," Santana seethed, pushing Quinn back and getting back under the water to continue washing off her body.

"Yes because Rachel isn't crazy. She didn't try to kill herself and for the record, I'd probably murder you if you did talk about her that way," Quinn tells her matter of fact and Santana whips her head around with a devilish smirk.

"You fancy her, don't you?" Santana tests and Quinn merely just rolls her eyes with annoyance, shaking her head in the process.

"So what if I do? At least I admit it. Santana you can't admit you like anyone. Fuck, when we were together, you couldn't admit you had feelings for me either. I mean, that's the whole reason why we stopped anything to begin with," Quinn counters and Santana stops, looking down at the floor.

"It's better this way," Santana grumbles under her breath, but Quinn hears it. She sighs and scoots her way back under the water.

"Yes, now it is better this way. Look, I don't think this girl is crazy, I wanted to get a rise out of you and since I did, my work here is done," she admits and Santana laughs bitterly at the girl because quite frankly she was always able to get something out of her, whether it be good or bad.

"She has a fiancé, Quinn. A wealthy, clean cut, fiancé, now how on earth could I ever compete with that?" Santana breaks and Quinn just chuckles at the girl, before sliding her head under the water.

"Well Santana, she's not married yet and we are on the ship of dreams, I think it's best to believe that anything is possible, don't you?" Quinn states and Santana just breaths out a smile because her best friend is right. To believe that anything is possible, what better place to be then on the Titanic? It's quite obvious Brittany isn't happy where she is at in life, maybe, just maybe Santana could change that.

"You should ask about my night with Rachel," Quinn breaks her train of thought and instead of responding she just lets her continue. "Well we went down to have dinner and seriously I don't know what goes on up there in first class, but I'd rather be down with the _gutter rats_ any day because it was like a party. We drank beer and danced; nobody cared. Then after that we walked the deck and spoke about everything, from Broadway to our childhood to just art in general. I've never had an in depth conversation with anyone to this magnitude before. And then, she walked me back to the cabin, it was truly chivalrous of her and completely gentleman like, she asked me if she could kiss me—instead of just doing it, she _asked_,"

"Oh and let me guess, you being the whore you are, kissed her after the first day you met. A round of applause for you," Santana cut in and got out of the shower stall, just as Quinn pushed her, forcing her to slide across the very cold tile.

Santana laughed at the expression that took over Quinn's face as they both gripped towels.

"Actually she was very lady like," they turned their gaze to the entrance of the showers to see Rachel standing there with her towel in tow. She walked closer to them and Santana felt this urge to wrap herself with her towel quickly; not wanting Rachel of all people to see her in the nude.

"Personally I think she's giving me too much credit. I merely acted on how I felt and what I saw in those hazel eyes of her, but believe what you will," Rachel added and she didn't eye Santana once through that entire admittance, for her eyes were only meant for Quinn's. Santana stood there taking in the scene before her, then walked out of the shower room with her clothes and back to their cabin—not caring if their Asian roommates saw her dressing.

Quinn stood there for a moment longer, taking in the shorter and more radiant girl (in her eyes). "You really mean that?" Quinn asked softly and Rachel couldn't hide the smile that grazed her lips.

"The moment we met, I knew there was something striking about you. I couldn't explain it and I couldn't figure it out, but I knew the way you sat there next to Santana with your head back, basking in the sun and wind, you looked so carefree and I just had to meet you. You were absolutely breathtaking and one way or another, I was going to introduce myself because even if nothing ever came afterwards, at least I would know your name and you would know mine, and I'd never forget it," Rachel confesses and it wasn't out of love, but out of being smitten for the first time. Rachel was truly smitten by the blonde before her, who has still yet to put her towel around her—but Rachel was a _gentleman_ and didn't stare anywhere else, but her eyes.

Quinn breathed out a smile in pure disbelief, before leaning down and capturing the brunette's lips into her own. Rachel responded as soon as Quinn closed the distance, placing her hands upon her smooth and still wet cheeks. The kiss was passionate, but ever so gentle and when they pulled away breathless, they smiled at one another.

Quinn was the first to look away and down at Rachel's clothes. "I'm sorry, I got your clothes all wet," Quinn chuckled and was soon responded the same way.

Rachel looked down. "So you did," she laughed, then shrugged it off. "I was about to shower anyway," she added, brushing it off, before taking the towel from Quinn's grasp. She walked around Quinn's back and placed the itchy material around her body as Quinn clutched on the front of it. Rachel kissed her neck, just under her ear; Quinn closing her eyes at the contact.

"I shall see you tomorrow. We'll bask in the sun together," Rachel whispers into her ear as Quinn turns around finally to face her. She nods at her with a smile on her lips, before walking out with her clothes and back to the cabin she shares with three other people, not once letting her smile falter.

…

_Somewhere over the Atlantic—April 13__th__, 1912_

Brittany rose early from her slumber—desperate to embark on finding Santana. Overnight, she thought about the young woman, who couldn't be any older than she, and how quickly she sprang into action to save her life. Brittany was taller, possibly not heavier, but definitely thought there was a chance she could have pulled her off along with herself, but Santana thought otherwise and just did what instinct told her; to make sure she doesn't die.

Brittany imagined if it was Finn placed in Santana's shoes; had he swung over the ledge to save her or would he have just ran over, reach over the rail and figure he couldn't reach and yell for others. Brittany wanted to give the man more credit, but deep down she really had thought he wouldn't have done half the heroic thing Santana had done.

And the way she smiled at her and clutched tightly to her body as if to never let go when they fell on the deck, well—Brittany didn't want to think about such things. She was raised religiously and her parents were highly against the acts that are partaken between the same sex, although Brittany didn't mind the idea. It was rather simple, if they loved one another unconditionally then why should it be anyone else's business? Perhaps that's the hopeless romantic in her that says these things, which only gets a response of hatred, but she couldn't hide how she felt; her heart sees no boundaries.

She dressed in a simple dress—not nearly as conforming as the one she'll be wearing to dinner and walked out the suite. She knew Finn and her mother were still asleep, and she didn't dare to want to wake them, so she left them a note, stating she'll be going for a walk and return when she is needed. She just didn't want them to worry after the ordeals of last night took place, and it was probably a rather wise decision.

…

Brittany walked on the lower deck, which was dedicated to the second and third class passengers, however she was of higher rank, therefore there really were no limitations of what she couldn't do. Although, you'd never catch anyone else of her stature among the lower half of the economic hierarchy.

There were very few people on the deck, but they didn't question her presence—they basked in her fashion and knew right away she was wealthy, but definitely didn't bother her as she stared out at the sea.

"If I may be quite frank, I think we get a better view than you do," Brittany looks up to see Santana shuffling from one foot than the other, holding her notebook under her right arm. She smiles sheepishly at Brittany, who just laughs heartily at her comment.

"I couldn't agree more. It's like—uh front row experience," Brittany smiles, letting Santana nod in agreement. They stand in front of one another for a moment in silence captivating one another in within minutes, before Santana breaks the eye contact to downcast them to the hard wood deck, licking her lips subconsciously.

"Though there really is no rule for you not to be down here, I am quite curious as to why you are. I mean, with this being dedicated to lower classes and all," Santana states into more of a question, when really it came out as a statement.

Brittany sighed and took a few steps closer to the young woman she indebted her life to. "I came here to look for you. I wanted to thank you properly for what you did last night, it was very chivalrous of you," Brittany exclaims, fiddling with a little string that's hanging visibly from her dress. This girl was making her completely utterly nervous and she couldn't figure out why.

"I believe you already did, but it wasn't exactly me being chivalrous, I think anybody would've done it," Santana counters, walking away only to have Brittany follow in suit. She made it to her side and couldn't turn her glances away from her, while Santana kept her eyes peeled forward—she didn't want to take credit for something she thought any decent human being would've done, plus she doesn't handle compliments all too well.

"I don't," Brittany breathed out, forcing Santana to stop in her tracks to look up at the girl before her. Those piercing blue eyes were so full of sadness and despair, that she wonders what the hell is going through her mind right now. She doesn't know Brittany, so it'd be rather forward and disrespectful to ask such a thing.

"You saw my mother—she didn't even try," Brittany began with a slight shrug. "Finn, I keep telling myself would've jumped into the icy depths of the sea had I fallen in, but the mere thought of it dissipates within seconds, so no I don't think anybody would've done what you did," Brittany explains sadly to Santana who just stands there with disbelief, but nods nevertheless and continues her stroll.

This time Brittany doesn't follow right away, but Santana does turn and look at the beautiful blonde before her. "I would have," she breathed out and Brittany looks at her curiously. "You know—jumped in, I would have had it come to that, but what boggles my mind is how you can lay with a man, who would never think of doing the same," Brittany looks up at her with, what almost could be construed as rage as she stalks towards her in incredulity.

"Who do you think you are to tell me such a thing?" Brittany froths at the other girl, who never once wavers under the intensity of Brittany's rage.

Santana laughs bitterly. "I may be underprivileged but I'm not uneducated. You strive for things that he can't give you. You don't want the riches and the fancy houses and cars, and there is a reason for that. You're better than they are. You told me yourself, you have no life and you're indebted to me, but you know what? You're already burying so far than they can throw you and I don't need to be an extra cause of you suffocating—I won't Miss," Santana elaborates passionately and turns to walk away, but stops when her notebook hits the wood halfway away from Brittany.

Brittany walks up to the book and takes it in her hands as Santana watches her with curious eyes. "What do you write in here?" Brittany asks softly and Santana timidly licks her lips, not taking her eyes off the book in Brittany's grasp.

She sighs heavily, taking a seat on the bench near them as Brittany follows in suit. "Open it," Santana whispers nervously, fidgeting back and forth. Brittany steals a glance at Santana before opening it to a random page that was dated before the voyage. She skimmed it then turned the page to the one that was dated for yesterday.

It spoke about an angel and forbidden love, admiring from afar—but somehow with no words describing who _she_ was; Brittany had an idea the poem was about her. Her heart swelled at the words, the way they described her as being the most beautiful woman in the world—it really made her happy.

She turned the page and on the back, dated the same day, the imagery was much darker and still apart of her believed it too was about her. Santana sees in the depths of her soul that no one else is seeing. Everything she's capturing on paper is what she feels in these moments. Poetry is meant to make you feel something, but never in her mind did she truly believe a piece would make her feel so many things.

"Are these two—are they about me?" Brittany had to ask—she had to know. Is Santana trying to tell her something? Is she the person she's been waiting for? In all reality, she wanted her to say no, so Brittany could forget, but when Santana nodded distantly, it was as if Brittany couldn't shake that feeling.

"These—these are beautiful. You are very gifted Santana, and you should pursue it," Brittany tells her softly, closing the book and handing it back to her. Santana takes it graciously, but doesn't respond to Brittany's compliment.

Instead she changes the focus. "What are your dreams?" Santana asks, placing the notebook down next to her and folding her hands into her lap.

Brittany chuckles softly, before shaking her head—she wished she had an answer for her. "I don't have any," Brittany responds and Santana looks at her unconvinced.

"I believe everyone has dreams, it's just a matter of knowing how to achieve them. So I'm not the least bit convinced that you don't have any," Santana replies and Brittany looks at her with what looks like adoration. This girl—she just understands and just does her own thing; it's what Brittany has craved for, but she didn't want Santana knowing this, especially when she knew it would never happen.

"All right—I have dreams, but I just will never follow through with them, because of where my life stands at the moment," best way she could describe it without giving Santana the full detailed description. So Santana just nods in understanding, then shifts her position a tad.

"Well then, the dreams must not be all that important if you won't let something simple as your stature stop you. Money must be extremely imperative," Santana tests and Brittany looks at her with distaste.

"If you must know, money isn't my number one priority! My dreams are like yours, I want to travel the world and yet not worry about where life takes me. I want to be comfortable—not wealthy, but comfortable. I want someone to love me and be there when I wake up in the morning, hold me when I'm upset or just because they care, be willing to have in depth conversations about our interests, like poetry—I adore poetry probably more than anything in this world, but Finn—Finn thinks it's a waste of time and just for that, he tossed a book of Shakespeare into the fire last night; it was my favorite because my father gave it to me before his passing.

"So yes Santana! Yes I have dreams, but I'm so succumbed and smothered that I will probably never have any of it," Brittany sobs out to Santana, who looks on—with no astonishment, but empathy. Brittany was hurting and though she barely knows the girl, other than by how she perceived her through her writing—she always knew Brittany wasn't collected.

Santana didn't hug her or touch her; she just sat there as Brittany bawled in front of her. For once Santana didn't have the right words to say.

* * *

><p><em>So they're connecting on a somewhat deeper level. I hope you like what I'm doing with their characters, and that goes for Quinn and Rachel as well. They'll be introduced further in the story, just hang tight and don't fret. More to come and please review, I'd love to hear any feedback you may have.<em>


	4. Chapter 4

**The little piece of writing above goes a****long more so with next chapter. I was originally going to write it in here, but the chapter was getting too long and I didn't want to do that being that the story of the Titanic is in a four day time span. So this is part one and enjoy the chapter. **_  
><em>

_April 12__th__, 2012_

_I'm on display. A crowded room; it's intoxicating and suffocating. I suddenly know what it's like to be you. All I see is my angel. Your eyes never leave mine. I sing a tune; you must know it. I find myself bearing it all to you and here I thought I was stronger. Weakness isn't something that exists, but hold on to me as I show you how vulnerable I can be. I'll open my heart to you, even if it'll break with skews. But watch me as I fall at the seams. We're not so different you and me—but just wait till you see all I can be. —Santana Lopez._

…

She really wasn't sure how long she sat there while the other girl next to her sobbed uncontrollably. What could she even do in this situation? She barely knows Brittany and she doesn't know whether she'd freak out on her for touching her or hugging her, plus it's just not in Santana's nature to do such a thing. So she sits. And waits, hoping that the girl will slow her sobs down to mere whimpers, till finally they cease.

Santana looks down at her notebook and blinks a few times, running her fingertips over the leather. She did this to sooth her thoughts when they wouldn't stop barreling down on her skull. Santana wanted to help this girl. She really did, but the thought of her ever being so close to her when she knew deep down there would be nothing more after, it hurt. It was like her heart was already broken before it even had a chance to swell.

Santana finally lifted her arm out in front of Brittany confusing the poor girl instantly. She looked up into Santana's eyes and what she saw was distress. Brittany knew she was probably making the girl uncomfortable with these sudden rushes of emotions, but it wasn't intentional. She didn't anticipate breaking down in front of her.

Holding her arm out straight in front of Brittany, she saw the once pale face, crimson red down to flushed cheeks and those piercing blues, only accentuated their color around the redness. Brittany wasn't entirely sure what Santana was denoting with her arm until Santana found her voice again.

"Use my sleeve," Santana instructed. It was the only option that came to mind for the less privileged girl. It was a simple gesture and yet Brittany found it endearing—she could never imagine Finn handing her his sleeve as she cried. Sometimes, _he_ can be the reason for her distraught state.

Brittany looks down at the sleeve, but not out of disgust like most people of her stature would, but for the simple fact that she didn't want to ruin it. So she graciously declined, but Santana is known for being persistent, so she left it out, hanging and waiting for Brittany to take it.

"You won't take no for an answer, will you?" Brittany breathed out glancing from the sleeve to Santana's awaiting eyes. Santana stares at her with such adoration, that Brittany doesn't notice, and shakes her head pointedly.

Brittany lets out a low chuckle, before taking the sleeve in her hand and wiping away the loose tears from her eyes. She dabbed away at her cheeks that seemed to feel slightly sticky from the previous ones that had already dried. All Santana could do is watch her with such fortitude, as if she was studying her every movement.

And she was. She wants to know everything there is to know about this girl. She wants to show her that everything she does is something special to her, even if it is simply her walking. Santana takes notice of the freckles that splay across her nose. She takes notice of how when she's nervous or uncomfortable she finds something to distract herself—anything as simple as the loose string on her dress. She takes notice of the way her hands continue to tremble as she grasps on to the material of Santana's sleeve. She takes notice that she's wearing a white sundress with blue ribbon around her small waist. She takes notice of how her hair is cascaded over her shoulders with a slight wave in it and every time the wind blows it gets in the way of her vision to a point where she constantly has to place it behind her ears.

Santana shouldn't have to be the one to notice these things, but she is. Sometimes when you're so captivated by someone you can't bring yourself to turn away when they're present.

"Thank you," Brittany sniffles letting go of the sleeve and Santana drops her arm in her lap. They remain in silence before Santana gets up and begins to stroll across the wood deck, then stops briefly when she realizes Brittany isn't following her.

Santana turns and sees Brittany looking down at her feet, with her legs pressed tightly together. She looks so hopeless and Santana disliked seeing her this way a great deal. Suddenly her composure deflated as she walked back to her. She stood in front of her and Brittany looked up right away. She was terrible at speaking. It's why she's a writer. When you have paper and a pencil in front of you, speaking isn't even necessary.

They lock eyes and suddenly it feels like a gravitational pull is pulling them together. Santana wasn't going to let her go. She is positive of this.

Santana holds her hand out and Brittany looks at it for a moment, then back up at the soft brown pools before her. "Trust me," she whispers softly to the hesitant young woman. Brittany looks in both directions, before sighing contently. She takes hold of Santana's hand—she's amazed at the slight tingle she feels run through her fingertips.

They padded along the dock in silence; in their own heads it seems. Nothing needed to be said. Their hands now swung next to one another and every time they each took another step, Brittany would look down at them. Her mind was swirling around about the sensation of what grabbing her hand did to her. She just wanted to grab it again.

Brittany gulped slightly, holding her hand out to touch the tan wrist, but stopped millimeters away. She couldn't. She had a fiancé and this was completely foolish to say the least—it was more than foolish. After they dock in New York, she'll never see Santana again. She is just going to be a distant memory, whilst she marries Finn.

_What if I don't want that?_

They stop where Brittany once stood yesterday morning, when she was reading her book. Today was much like that one and Santana hung her arms over the railing, watching the lower deck from above. Brittany kept averting her eyes towards Santana, who's pulled back hair was blowing in the wind.

"Santana?" Brittany spoke as Santana hummed a response then turning towards the girl next to her. Brittany just wanted to get a glimpse of those soft brown eyes, that seemed to calm her nerves—relax her entire body, once again. She could get lost in them and isn't that what's supposed to happen when you're in—

Brittany gulped and ceased that thought before it could even finish. She didn't in anyway have romantic intentions or feelings for Santana. It was impossible. Even though she was showing her everything she has desperately craved for, she couldn't in any way like her more. Santana knew where she stood as did she, and there was no way it would ever change.

Santana turns back slowly to look down at the full deck, spotting two young women no older than Brittany and she. She smiles as she watches them spinning around in each other's arms; they looked incredibly happy.

She turns back to Brittany. "You see that blonde down there with the brunette?" Santana points in their direction and Brittany instantly notices they were the other two women Santana was with the other day, so she nods.

"She was my first—everything. I like to believe I loved her, but how does one really know at fifteen? She was all I had—she's still all I have. I lost her because I guarded myself, but you see, I'm not upset that we never stayed anything more because her happiness is all I could ask for. I love her, but I don't think I ever really loved her the way she wanted me to," Santana exclaimed passionately not taking her eyes off Quinn and Rachel. She may give Quinn a hard time, but she knew they were never right for one another. They wanted different things in relationships; things that neither one could give to the other.

Brittany looks down at the scene as well and smiles at how truly exultant they were. And when she sees Rachel capture Quinn's lips in her own, she feels a deep yearning for such affection. How they don't seem to notice the looks they get their way. All that matters is the two of them.

"I'd ask you if you love Finn, but if you're getting married, I'd imagine I know the answer," Santana's voice breaks through her mind, forcing her to tear her eyes away from the two women below.

Marriage is supposed to be about love; the kind of love where you want to spend the rest of your life with them and the only reason you aren't together is because death tears you apart. Brittany holds on to that definition with every fiber in her being, but it doesn't exist in her reality.

She sighs sadly, hoping Santana wouldn't notice before she composes herself. "I love him very much," Brittany nods convincingly and Santana just watches her with wretched eyes, but nods nevertheless.

"Well, then I hope he gives you everything you need and more," Santana manages, before walking away from her. Brittany watches Santana go, hoping she'll stop and ask her to come with her, but she never does. She just continues her stalking away and never looks back.

It slowly breaks chips at Brittany's heart.

…

Santana speeds past the several people who looked at her with a foul expression as to why she's up on the top level. She just needed to get away from Brittany. She couldn't even explain why her saying she loved her fiancé affected her so much. She needed to remind herself constantly that she barely knows her and yet she is so invested in her, that she can't let go.

"I'm such a fool," she whispers to herself as she takes a seat down on one of the benches, next to a heavy set woman. Santana keeps battling and physically hitting her head to break away from any thought of Brittany ever being hers.

She wished Brittany never came into her life. She wished she wasn't so selfless and got herself involved in saving her life. She wished she had never heard the words of Brittany being indebted to her. She wished she had never spent the whole day with her today. She wished she had never told her about her past with Quinn. It was like the first time she ever laid eyes on her through to where she walked away from her was on replay and echoed through her entire brain.

It had to stop. These feelings just had to stop.

"What's wrong honey?" Santana lifted her head up at the voice and landed on the heavy set woman, dressed to the ends. She was obviously wealthy, but she was actually speaking to her like she wasn't scum and to think she thought so low of the high class citizens.

"It's nothing," Santana breathed out, when the woman wiped away loose tears with her covered hand.

"From the looks of it, it doesn't seem to be nothing," she tells her, placing her hand back in her lap.

Santana didn't humor the woman, instead she remained silent. She already opened up to one woman today, she didn't want to do it again and have it thrown back in her face.

The woman sighed. "I am Molly Brown," the woman introduces, taking her glove off to hold her hand out. Santana looks down at the hand and the fact that it was no longer covered just shows she trusts her in some way.

Santana sighs softly, taking the hand and shaking it in a friendly manner. "Santana. Santana Lopez," she states and Molly smiles contently.

"Ah I've heard of you. The word around is that you jumped over the edge of the back of the boat to save a young woman. I've had tea with her mother—a rather bitter woman she is," Molly gossips making Santana chuckle in agreement. She was definitely right about that detail.

"I also hear you're supposed to be having dinner with us _snakes_," Molly adds and Santana looks up. She had forgotten about the dinner, which means she has to dress up and be around Brittany again—suddenly the pain in her chest returned.

"Yes mam," Santana says politely, folding her hands in her lap, battling with the thought of looking like a fool in front of everyone. She already looks disgusting to these people—she sees the looks, but to walk in the dining room in her father's suspenders; she would just embarrass herself.

"Come with me dear," Molly states, grabbing her hand and Santana lets her guide her to wherever she is taking her. The woman seemed harmless and nice enough, there was just no way she couldn't just let her take her to where she is bringing her.

…

As soon as Santana entered the suite, she was brought into the bathroom to be bathed and Santana couldn't feel more uncomfortable. She wasn't one to be bashful about her body, but she certainly didn't like the idea of having some stranger washing her body, even if it was a woman.

Santana curled up in the tub with her knees reaching her chin as the maid poured the warm water on her body. This was only the beginning and Santana couldn't understand why you would need a maid for such a thing. It was just laziness to her, if you can't bathe yourself.

Molly walks into the bathroom and relieves the maid of her duty—now it was just them. Santana looks up at her and sits down in front of the bath.

"You look rather uncomfortable," Molly chuckles and Santana loosens up at the gesture.

"That is an understatement," Santana mumbles, taking the soap to wash her hair and Molly is surprised at the sudden change of her stance. "You don't bathe yourself?" Santana asks curiously, and Molly smirks amusingly.

"I do, trust me, I just came into money, so I've been doing it for many years. You can't just break old habits now, can you?" she tells her and Santana ducks her head into the tub, arching her back slightly and Molly takes notice of how truly thin the young woman was.

"I suppose not," Santana replies after her head broke the surface. Santana took note of the way Molly was looking at her with such sympathy. She knew Molly could clearly see her body and how small it really is, but she's not dead and she does what she can to survive—so what if she misses a meal or an entire day, she's still living.

Molly grabs the soft towel that laid on the counter and instructs her to stand. She wraps her body with it and Santana sighed contently into the cotton. It felt amazing against her skin and not like those scratchy ones that they left for her class.

"I have your dress out on the bed. It is my niece's, so it should fit you well. I am also having your other clothes washed and pressed; they should be done by the end of dinner, so just stop by here and they will be here," Molly tells her, walking out of the bathroom to give her privacy to dry off. Santana was bewildered by her acts of kindness, but she didn't question it. She knew Molly wasn't like the rest and she was grateful for that.

…

Santana stood in front of the mirror as two maids assisted her with the corset. Santana didn't realize she wasn't allowed to breathe when you were wealthy. She finally took notice that she looked even smaller than she did to Molly, but she didn't question the maids on their jobs. She stepped into the dress and her mind wavers to when the last time she wore a dress. She really couldn't recall and it's depressing to think it's been that long.

She remembered loving to dress up in girls clothes, but all she had a chance to grab was her father's clothes when her parents passed. Santana remembered that frightful day, but she didn't like thinking about it. It was in the past for a reason, it is best for her to stay that way.

The maids completed their tasks and Molly walked out in her dress, examining the young woman before her. She smiled at how beautiful she looked in the red dress that hung down to her ankles. Santana's hair hung down in loose curls over her bare shoulders. Her makeup was done to perfection and Santana couldn't deny she felt beautiful, but it also didn't feel right to her. Perhaps wearing her father's clothes for so many years just made more sense to her.

She turns to Molly and smiles appreciative at her, before leaning in to hug her. "Thank you for everything and if I had anything I'd give it to you, but—" Santana lets a few loose tears fall down her cheeks and Molly hands her a tissue to make sure her makeup doesn't get ruined.

"My dear, you don't owe me anything. I did this for you and you look radiant," Molly assures her grabbing hold of her hands to give Santana more confidence. Santana smiles happily, before she is brought out of the suite to walk to the dining room.

_At least the rich actually walk and aren't carried_, Santana thinks.

…

Santana walks delicately with Molly into the dining room and is amazed by the high ceiling dome and the architecture of the clock that stood in the middle of the double staircase. It was truly remarkable and if she considered her even half the poet others do, she'd have a few colorful words to express.

They made their way down the stairs and the few men they passed took notice of her beauty, smiling and bowing their heads to her. This was all too unfamiliar to her and she couldn't quite grasp the politeness they're displaying; she's no Queen of England.

She lets out the breath she's been holding in since they left the suite. She really just wanted to get this dinner over with, so she can move on and get into a more comfortable situation. She realizes even more so now that first class was not where she wants to be and frankly she doesn't blame Brittany one bit for wanting the same.

"I'll be back dear, I must greet a few people," Molly states, before uncurling her arm with Santana's to leave her standing in front of the stairs to await the rest of their party.

All Santana could do was watch the rest of the people and wait. She took notice of the way the men stood straight and took the women's hand in their own and gently place a kiss upon it. Santana remembered her father doing that jokingly with her and how she'd giggle hysterically at it. She always wanted to return the favor, but what would that look like in this situation?

She sighs to calm the unnerving feeling in the pit of her stomach, hoping it'll just wash it away, but it doesn't. It only makes it worse and she can't help, but lean against one of the columns that are supporting the weight of the top floor. She closes her eyes to intake a breath, when she hears voices approaching.

Santana opens her eyes and sees Brittany's mother and Finn, walking down the stairs. He's escorting her and talking to her about something Santana didn't care to understand. She stood up straight, knowing that Brittany wouldn't be too far behind when they've reached the dining room.

They continued to walk and Finn took notice of her presence, before bowing politely to keep strolling—he must not have recognized her and Santana smirked at the idea. When she looked back up she was caught off guard by the beauty that descended down towards her.

Their eyes never left each other and Brittany found a smile forming across her lips. Santana was too awe struck to return the gesture, except to walk closer to meet her at the end of the stairs.

Santana finally released another breath she's been holding in. Her heart was racing incredibly too fast for her to even register, before she took Brittany's hand in her own and removed the glove that was placed on it. She leaned down and placed a kiss on top of her knuckles.

Brittany's breath hitched at the action, but she didn't seem to care to look in multiple directions to see if anyone else saw it. It was just her and Santana; nobody else mattered in that moment to them.

Santana removed her lips from her skin and placed the glove back on, threading each finger in its respective place.

"You look beautiful tonight," Santana whispers to her. She took notice of the blush that crept up on her cheeks when she complimented her allowing her to exhale a chuckle.

"And you look…very different," Brittany voices and suddenly Santana looks down getting a tad self- conscious at her words. "But in a very good way—breathtaking even," Brittany adds, letting Santana breathe a little easier. Oh how she wishes she was hers.

Santana holds her hand out for Brittany to take and Brittany happily obliges. They begin their stroll when Finn approaches them, taking instant notice of their hands locked, but instead of questioning it, he disregards it for now.

"Finn, you remember Santana," Brittany reintroduces and he looks at her amazed by the way she's carried herself and is no longer dressed in those loose suspenders, but in an elegant dress with makeup.

"My God, I—I would've never guessed," he speaks heartily and Santana just wants him to go back in the direction he came from. Being around Brittany is intoxicating, but she didn't want him ruining it for her.

"Yes, I'm pretty amazed myself, but I certainly can't take the credit," Santana replies with dry politeness within her words, which went unnoticed to him. He smiled widely at the two women, before taking Brittany's other hand in his own, so he could escort her to some people.

Santana is left there yet again alone, when a man with a complete buzz cut with a strong bone structure approaches her.

"Miss. Lopez, might I escort you to dinner this evening? I am Noah Puckerman, Finn Hudson's personal bodyguard," he holds his arm out for her and she takes notice of the charming smile he's placed on his face, before nodding and grabbing hold of his arm. Santana knew she certainly wasn't going to be able to escort Brittany, but at least she tried.

…

Finn escorted Brittany's mother, Elizabeth to a lovely couple known as John Jacob Astor and his wife Madeleine. He stood there conversing for a little while with John, before excusing himself to find his fiancée. He began walking the dining room to catch sight of her, knowing she was strolling just behind them. He really was quite confused as to where she had gone.

He wondered when that girl was going to show up too. Dressed in those foul men's clothing, that looked like they haven't been washed for months. He was sure they haven't as he chuckled to himself. He couldn't hide the idea of how embarrassing it was going to be for her. Not that he hated the girl for saving Brittany, but he just didn't care.

She was below him, why would he?

When he turned the corner, he scanned the stairs and spotted his fiancée talking to that young woman he acknowledged when he first strolled in. He hasn't seen her before that's for sure, but she was most definitely beautiful. Her tan skin glowed under the lights and her hair shined like she was an angel.

He watched them interact from afar when he saw her pull the glove off Brittany's hand to place her lips on the newly shown skin. Anger began to fuel in him and when Brittany looked at her with those sparkling eyes she once looked at him with, he couldn't hide his anger any longer.

He punched the column he was closest to and soon his bodyguard stood next to him. Finn looked at him with his jaw clenched.

"You keep her away from Brittany tonight, do I make myself clear?" Finn tells him and Noah nods as they both walk towards the two women.

* * *

><p><em>Review and let me know what you think. Thank you for all the previous ones and I hope you all continue to enjoy the story.<em>


	5. Chapter 5

_April 12__th__, 1912_

…

On the arm of Noah, it didn't feel right. Watching Brittany stroll on Finn's in front of her, it was as if time stopped its normal pace and slowed down. Feeling the muscles through his tux sleeves, she knew he was strong, and she wouldn't doubt that she and him looked really beautiful together, but it wasn't who she was—her and Noah would never be and she just met him. He works for Finn at any rate; it's one of the last things she could ever want. She knew who she was and what she loved, and being with a man is certainly not in her future.

She placed a false smile across her lips as she passed many onlookers and when they reached the large round table, Noah pulled out a chair for her to take a seat. He kissed her hand as he placed another charming smile on his face before walking away to take a seat elsewhere.

Santana sat in her chair next to people she didn't know. She knew had she had Molly at least next to her this dinner wouldn't be so difficult. All she could do is take deep breaths to calm her heart down. She wished to return to third class, where they dance and serve beer—a party as it should be, not like this.

Santana opened her eyes to see Finn placing Brittany in the seat right across from her, and being that the table is so round, the distance between them was almost too much for Santana to bear. He placed a kiss on her lips, lingering longer than he should before placing himself opposite of Elizabeth.

She made sure to keep her eyes casted downward after seeing the affection because it really tore her apart.

She needed to get out of here. The air was thick. The people were suffocating. And she couldn't take the constant reminders.

She moved her eyes up across her to see Brittany looking right at her. She saw it. She saw the pain in Santana's eyes—it mirrored her own.

Santana was about to get up, when the first course came in front of her. She sighed deeply, hoping that there was a chance she could just enjoy herself, even just a little.

"So—Santana is it?" She snaps her head up to see Elizabeth looking her way, which only brought the attention of the rest of the table. She wouldn't usually identify as being claustrophobic, but suddenly the walls her closing in and heat burned within.

"Yes mam," she quietly manages, making eye contact. She makes the attempt to glance over at Brittany, who too had her eyes peeled in her direction. She continued to linger longer than she should because looking into Brittany's eyes, she felt a strange sense of clarity and calmness. It was like she washed away all the overbearing eyes of judgment. She made things simpler than they had to be.

"How is it you've found yourself on this ship? Is there a young man awaiting your arrival?" Santana knew Elizabeth knew better than this. She was cornering her and from the looks of it, both Brittany and Finn knew it as well. With a smirk plastered upon his face and a look of shock ran across the young woman she found herself not being able to forget about, she knew there was absolutely no possibility that she'd let Elizabeth nor Finn have the final laugh.

She breaks her eye contact with Brittany to look at her mother. Her face had a growing smirk as she stole a glance over at Finn—almost challenging.

_Watch me._

"Well you see mam, my good friend and I have been living within our means through only the best ways possible, so just call it a streak of skill that landed me with you fine people. And well as for a dashing man, I can't say none could compare to the beauties with vivacious curves that women possess," the way she replied was dry and sarcastic, but held the truth.

From the looks of the twenty or so people that were sitting around the table, it was like she had two heads and they have never met a lesbian—or one that was so openly expressive about it. Santana just didn't care. She couldn't care.

Her food was half eaten before she picked up her napkin from her lap and dabbed the corners of her mouth, trying to keep up the charade longer.

She rose from her seat. "If you'll excuse me," she tossed her napkin on top of her food then stalked out of the dining room, missing the hidden smile that has been displayed on the young woman she was so smitten by.

…

Walking down the hall she took the heels off that dug into her feet and grabbed a towel off the maid's cart to wipe off the makeup that stuck to her skin in layers. She felt like she has lost herself in these layers. She just wanted to take this dress off as beautiful as it was and the corset that made her breathing irregular.

As hard as she tried to stop herself, her mind wandered to Brittany. She suddenly understood why she hated this life. Sure the money and the security was a wonderful aspect to this life, but the saying goes money doesn't buy you happiness—it held so much truth. So much logic.

The clothes, Santana used to think she wanted it, but it's as if you have to hold your breath for hours upon hours just to keep up an act for hundreds of people you don't even know. All it is, is an act that she could never keep up—not for long anyway. Brittany is remarkable for keeping it up for eighteen years.

The maids let her inside the suite to grab her clothes and help her take the dress off. She couldn't keep up the act and it wasn't her place to do so.

But it was her place to help Brittany see she doesn't need to be someone she's not. It became her duty when she stole her eyes from that top deck. It became her duty when she held her hand and pulled her back on board the ship.

…

Brittany stared blankly at the empty seat that once held Santana and she suddenly felt this deep deflation inside. When she dressed for dinner this evening, she had an extra smile and an extra skip in her step—she didn't understand why, but it made all the sense in the world now as she continued to stare obviously at the chair.

It was because of Santana.

It was because she was going to be in her presence.

It seemed as though whenever Santana was around, her world seemed just a tad brighter and that was much better than anything else she experienced.

Dinner is almost over and she's full. She barely ate anything, but she's full. Everyone has now forgotten Santana's existence, except for her.

She just wanted to know where she is at this moment. If she's okay. To apologize for the ignorance of her mother. Her mind raced for a million reasons as to why she had to find her, but none of them seemed like enough—none of the reasons were anything she was willing to admit.

With a clear of their throat, Brittany looked over to see Finn standing over her. He leaned down and placed a kiss on her temple, before leaning into her ear.

"You want to be escorted back to the suite?" He asks and as much as she wanted to just leave, she declines and decides on staying. He nods sheepishly, before walking off with the rest of the men to have a drink—as if they haven't had enough at dinner.

She watched him go briefly, but only turned her attention back to the empty seat. She sighed deeply, when she felt herself being interrupted yet again from her concentration.

"What are you doing dear?" She turns her gaze to Molly who looked at her with concern and like it was completely obvious of exactly what was going through Brittany's head.

"Oh—I must have dozed off into a daydream," she hides, but Molly just stares at her knowingly. She isn't one to be fooled by such a lie, with a hidden nervous chuckle.

"Honey, go find her," Molly tells her, turning back to her glass of wine. Brittany snapped her head back up to take in what Molly had just said, her eyes widen in shock.

"But—I—I'm not sure what you're insinuating, but—," Brittany falters and Molly can only look on amusingly. Brittany's reaction only fueled what she already knew.

"Listen, you don't have to try and hide it from me, but I can tell you that girl is in love with you. Her eyes light up when she sees you and the way she practically had a panic attack until your eyes met. You don't find love like that often, I can tell you that," Molly interjects and Brittany can't stop her heart from beating out her chest practically.

The only words she heard on replay.

_That girl is in love with you._

Santana couldn't possibly be in love with her. She told her herself that she was guarded and she implied she doesn't love many. She just couldn't grasp this at all. So she panics.

Brittany quickly gets up without a word to the women, while Elizabeth watches her retreating figure with stern eyes.

Brittany descended up the stairs frantically, trying desperately to get her breathing under control. Her mind was racing with the thoughts of Santana and her ever being anything more. It sounded appealing—more so than she'd like to admit, but it just wasn't possible. She would've been much happier had Molly not said a damn thing about Santana's clearly obvious feelings.

She stepped through into the cold air and continued her quick pace along the dock. She shook her head of the amazing thoughts that had been placed in her head of Santana and she doing everything together from holding hands to kissing sweetly under a big tree in Central Park, to laying awake till the wee hours of the morning entangled in each other's arms to being held close to Santana's warm body while the snow falls outside their one bedroom flat in the city.

These thoughts were mere fantasy and will never happen between them. Brittany has accepted that and Santana should do the same.

Brittany stopped her stride when she began hearing the sounds of…cheering? Laughter? Then music began to play. As she turned the corner, she nearly ran into a young woman.

"Oh I'm sorry," the young woman laughs, flashing a big smile. She had short blonde hair and Brittany instantly recognized that she knew Santana. She recalled Santana pointing her out to her earlier that day—so it must be a sign, right?

"It's alright—um what is going on down there?" Brittany asked curiously pointing to the entrance that they are now blocking.

Quinn smirks at her curiosity, before taking her bottom lip in between her teeth. "Would you like to see?" She asks, knowing exactly who she was and knowing exactly the answer.

Brittany stands there hesitant because what if Santana really was down there? What if she was angry with her? What if she just confesses everything to her? She couldn't handle that pressure right now.

"Oh c'mon," Quinn finally says, taking her hand and pulling her down in the lower deck. Brittany nearly trips, but composes herself long enough to see the many people dancing, laughing, and having a grand time. She could say this was a disgrace, but that would be the biggest lie she could ever say.

Her mouth gapped in awe, before laughing slightly at the entire scene before her. "This is—," she was speechless and Quinn's face held the smirk, never faltering.

"One hell of a fucking party," Quinn tells her, guiding her to an open table. Instantly two beers are placed down in front of them and Brittany continues to scan the room in disbelief. If half of the congregations in first class were as free as this, she wouldn't mind being in that society.

Suddenly the music comes to a standstill and both women look over at the stage to see Rachel and Santana step up on it. Both stood there like they were in their elements.

Brittany took notice of how Santana no longer wore her dress from before, but wore the suspenders. She smiled at the attire—it was more her. As much as she loved seeing her dressed up, it just wasn't who she was.

The music began to play a tune and suddenly all noise ceased as everyone turned to pay attention to both girls. Neither Brittany nor Quinn has heard them sing before for real. Rachel has sung to Quinn before but in a more soothing situation, so she knew the song fairly well seeing as this is the song Rachel would sing to her.

"_Just like the sunrise, you came to me it seems, Just like the sunrise, you woke me from my dreams,_" Rachel begins and the music continues its slow melody. Her eyes landed on the only girl she has eyes for—Quinn. She found her in the far back, watching her just as intently. No one else mattered and no else ever has since they've met.

"_Your smiles are sunshine upon on a rainy day, they bring me gladness, and drive my blues away,_" Santana begins the second verse. Her eyes had landed on Brittany long ago, but they only fueled the fire in her. Brittany never once looked away either and hearing Santana's voice, how powerful it is—not that Rachel's wasn't, but their sounds were very different.

They went in sync for the last verse and Brittany could take notice of some tears being shed from both girls.

They were in pain. The song was beautiful, but it was more than that. It was to them—to her and Quinn. It was about having someone special in your life and they're either leaving or have a limited time with one another and that's them.

"I see the way you look at her," Brittany hears Quinn whisper to her as they sing the last note. She finally rips her eyes away from her beloved and her best friend to look at the girl who stole her best friend's heart. "She looks at you the exact same way. Ever since she's laid them on you,"

"And how do I look at her?" Brittany tests because it seems like everyone else is seeing things she isn't and it's irritating to say the least. She wanted answers and she wanted to understand.

"Angst," Quinn simply states. "You have a fiancé, we know that, but I can bet you anything you don't look at him the way you look at her and for that—that's not fair. Not to neither one of you," Quinn adds, chugging the last of her beer then gets up and meets Rachel to dance.

Brittany gulped at what Quinn had said. Has she been that oblivious to her own feelings? No, but she just never had the guts to admit it. She looks down ashamed. She can't bear to hurt Santana nor could she hurt Finn—she had a dilemma on her hands.

Brittany suddenly felt out of place and she really hated it. It was easier to keep up the façade with the people of her stature because she looked the part. She's tall, blonde, make up is always to perfection, and not a single piece of her outfit is out of place. But sitting here with these people she desperately wanted to be a part of, it felt like just another wasted dream.

She looked around the area and spotted Santana with a little girl dancing freely with her. She sported a wide smile as did the little girl. She looked genuinely in her element—she felt a tad jealous by that, but it didn't stop the grin that rose from one end of her face to the other.

Santana picks up the little girl and spins her around, and the girl didn't hide the hysterics that combusted through her. Brittany felt her heart swell at the sight before her. As much as she hated comparing the two of them—she couldn't stop herself. Finn would never do that with any child, not even his own had she bared them. Santana is giving her attention to a girl she doesn't even know and it was a heartwarming sight to see.

She suddenly understood what people were trying to tell her. Quinn and Molly were right—something was there between them and she could feel it.

Brittany turned back to her beer and took another sip of it, before she noticed the chair that Quinn once sat in was occupied. She looked up and was met with those brown pools.

"I wouldn't have expected you to find me here," Santana states as a beer is placed down in front of her. She takes it in her hand and sips the contents. Her hair was slightly disheveled, but Brittany couldn't take her eyes off her.

"I—um—I went for a walk and I heard the music and crowd, so I got curious," Brittany replied as Santana nodded briefly.

The silence between the two was deafening, even if music played and others were chattering amongst themselves. It was like neither one knew how to interact with the other because they each have hidden desires that can't be said or acted upon.

All they could do was watch the scene before them. It was chaotic. It was absolutely mad, but in some strange way, it felt as if it was where they were supposed to be. Brittany panned her eyes to the stage to see Rachel and Quinn dancing around, laughing hysterically. Rachel's arm is encircled around Quinn's waist and her hand laid on her lower back. Quinn's arms are around Rachel's neck and her head is doubled over on her shoulder. Brittany knew it was supposed to be hidden affection, but she saw Quinn place kisses on the side of Rachel's neck and it sent a nervous pit in her stomach. Like it was being ripped apart—she is envious.

She tears her eyes away with a huff, chugging the rest of her beer. In the corner of her eye, she could see Santana watching her carefully. Her eyes widen at the sight—she hoped she didn't see right through her and notice the way she envied her friends.

Brittany braved the look she could possibly get and saw sadness written all over Santana's face. She knew she was in pain and she knew her feelings, but from everyone else. What if they were wrong? She needed to hear them from Santana. But she knew if she did, then she wouldn't be able to control herself. She wouldn't be able to control what she may do.

"Will you take a walk with me?" Santana's voice breaks through her mind and she nods instantly, wanting to get away from there. She didn't want to think about anything remotely close to feelings for Santana nor her deep desire to have what Quinn and Rachel have.

…

Santana's and Brittany's shoes clicked against the wood as they strolled along the dock. The stars were lit bright over the entire horizon and it truly was a beauty to see.

"You can't see anything like this in the city," Santana comments to her, knowing she was a city girl and probably hasn't seen this many stars enveloping the sky before. Brittany smiled as her eyes continued to rack over the blanket of stars. Something so simple as star watching with Santana could make her heart swell with such excitement.

As they continue walking along the deck, Santana notices the way Brittany winces with each step she starts to take. She grabs her hand and pulls her to the nearby bench.

"No I'm fine, really. We should keep walking," Brittany insists and Santana places her down gently on the bench and leans down in front of her.

"We will, but we are getting these off your feet," Santana tells her, slipping the heels one by one off. Brittany sighs when she does this, feeling instant relief when they're removed. They were about two sizes too small, but beauty was never meant to be painless.

Santana looks back up to meet Brittany's blue eyes to silently ask if she feels any better. With a nod, Santana leans back up and pulls Brittany up from the bench and carries her heels in one hand.

"I can carry them," Brittany states, holding her hand out as her other arm wraps completely around her shoulder. Her hand begins to rub her arm discreetly, but Santana notices. Instead of responding to what Brittany originally said, she wraps her coat around Brittany's shoulders.

"I have them," is all Santana utters, before continuing onward. Brittany stops for a moment to take in the way Santana strolls. It's rather gentleman like, but still has that feminine drawl to it. Something about the way she's so chivalrous brings a warm feeling through her entire body.

Santana stops when she notices that Brittany is no longer following her. She turns around and sees Brittany eyeing her carefully—like she's studying her. Her eyes are narrowed in concentration and she has a small hidden grin, and the way her head is tilted just ever so slightly; it sent chills down Santana's spine.

"What?" Santana finally says and Brittany just looks down as her smile grows. She shakes her head and her tasseled hair moves freely, before she looks back up.

"You are a mystery Santana Lopez," she exclaims, continuing her pace so she is now standing next to Santana; her smile never once fading. "I'm still trying to figure you out," she adds as they walk to the bow of the boat.

Santana stops and leans her arms on the rails, before turning around and leaning her back against it to lift her head up to watch the stars move. It's like she could see the earth rotating before her eyes—nothing she's ever seen before and she was glad to be sharing it with Brittany.

"My father and I use to star gaze when I was little. We lived in the country in a little cottage—nothing much. He was my best friend before Quinn came along," Santana explains, meeting Brittany's gaze, who was just watching her waiting for her to continue.

"What happened?" Brittany asks in a mere whisper, fiddling with her fingers. She hasn't talked about her parents before, but she knew Santana had to be an orphan; otherwise she wouldn't be living day to day on her own with Quinn.

"My parents use to work in a plantation. Their master had my mother imported from Africa and my father from Spain. They wanted to move to America, hoping for a better life for themselves. They thought they could work and hopefully see where life will take them, but they were wrong about it ever being the freest country back then," she began, looking down at the floor as if she was trying to regain the memories of when her parents had told her the story.

"It was against policy to intermingle with anyone out of your own ethnicity, but to have children was okay, providing it'd be African with African and Spanish with Spanish. But my parents fell in love—hopelessly so. They tried desperately to rip the feelings away from their hearts, but every time they got around each other, their feelings only intensified till it was intoxicating. My father made the first move and kissed my mom and during the nights, they'd sneak away long enough to have time together," she stopped for a beat to look at Brittany. She was still observing at Santana, waiting for her to continue—like she was listening to a fairytale.

"My mother discovered she was pregnant with me and while both of them were happy, they didn't want to raise me up to be a slave, so they fled. When word got out that they ran away, their master got furious and sent out a search party, but nothing turned up—not for years. I was thirteen when our cottage that my father built with his hands was invaded. He had grabbed some clothes and pushed me up on the highest tree on the land—it was like we were prepared for this day. He told me not to come down till I was told to do so, so I didn't,"

"I waited there till day break and he still had not returned, so I finally came down and I saw our cottage burnt to ashes and smoke still lingered, and my parents laid dead on the floor of the forest. It's quite morbid really, but I knew they wouldn't have wanted me to have the life they had, so I fled to Europe and over the year I realized I had an ability to sing. So I sang for money and then I met Quinn, and the rest is history," she finishes and when she looked back up, she saw Brittany with tears in her eyes. Santana closed her eyes for a moment, before leaning forward and shakily wiped a stray tear from her cheek.

"Don't feel sorry for me," she whispers to her, before walking over to a bench and laying down on it. Brittany took a deep breath and walked slowly towards her and nervously laid down next to her, noticing Santana made room for her.

They laid like that staring up at the sky in silence. All that could be heard was the crashing of the waves against the boat as it moved on course.

"Tell me about the stars," Brittany breaks the silence as she continued to gaze up. Santana turned her head to look at Brittany. The way the moon glowed off her flawless pale skin and the way her eyes twinkled—it was like they were porcelain orbs that could break at any sudden moment or course of action.

She diverted her eyes back up at the sky. She took a deep breath and remained silent for a moment, when a shooting star shot through the bed of stars. Santana smiled warmly at it, taking Brittany's hand in hers, guiding it up to where the shooting star once was.

"There is a saying my father once said. Anytime you see a shooting star it's a soul crossing over, finding its way back home," she tells her moving Brittany's hand along the path the star just took.

"Do you wish on them?" Brittany asks looking at Santana, who finally turned back to her.

"Why? What would you wish for?" She asks curiously, staring deeply at Brittany.

She diverted her eyes down to her lips subconsciously, before looking back up with pure wretchedness. "Something I can't have,"

_Angst_. Angst is exactly the best word to describe how they feel.

* * *

><p><em>I would like to say first and foremost that I didn't post a poem at the top because the other chapter's poem went with this chapter. So I apologize for that. Also, thank you guys so much for the reviews. I appreciate them. I hope this chapter was to your liking. There will be more Faberry next chapter and hopefully we can get Brittana together next chapter...? Maybe? Who knows. Anyway, please review and let me know what you guys think, as always. <em>


	6. Chapter 6

__**Before I let you begin, thank you all for the reviews and I hope you guys approve of this chapter. Well I know it's not exactly what you guys want, but trust me...next chapter, you guys...it's on! Anyway, enjoy!**

_April 12__th__, 1912_

_Many words could compare what you bring to me. Lying here with you tonight has been my greatest desire since we've met. Fate has brought us together in an unlikely place. The world may say we're not meant to be, but our hearts beat as one tonight. And in the dark, the world doesn't know us, like we do. My heart will forever beat with yours till it discontinues. – Santana Lopez._

…

Shoes and garments lay carelessly on the floor. Sheets hung off the side of the bunk. Anybody walking in could see it was a mess, but the world couldn't stop these two people from consummating the love they shared for one another. The world seemed to be at such a standstill by the way each movement from either woman was so carefully met and so gentle.

Her lips connected with the paleness of her lover's neck. Her fingertips grazed along gentle skin, creating goose bumps on the now tingling skin.

With her breathing growing more irregular by the second, she circled her arms around her tiny frame and pulled her lover closer—as close as she could possible. Tightening the grasp of her legs around her waist as her lover's body moved in sync with her own.

Her lover kissed the skin under her ear lobe and began to sing softly into it. "_Just like the sunrise, you came to me it seems, Just like the sunrise, you woke me from my dreams,_" it could be barely audible to another's ears, but she heard it so clearly.

The sincerity and adoration within her voice gave her so much clarity—so much warmth, that she's never gotten anywhere else. And being wrapped in her arms tonight; she hoped this moment wouldn't ever end.

Feeling the sweat and the intensity of the gratification building up within her underbelly, she tightens her hold on her lover as firmly as she possibly can as her lover continued placing countless loving marks of affection on the exposed bare skin.

Suddenly her breathing is hitched and the whole world just begins to rotate even faster before her eyes. With her back arched upwards, it hits the mattress with a sudden thud and suddenly she's trying to find her lungs again. Her lover lies down next to her, too trying to find herself breathing at a normal rate.

After what felt like hours, she turns to the welcoming pair of brown eyes and leans in to kiss those pink supple lips she adores so much.

"Is it possible to have love at first sight?" She whispers into her lover's lips. She smiles and places another simple kiss upon her mouth.

"Because I fell in love with you the moment you asked for a cigarette," she tells her causing Rachel to chuckle, placing her hands over her eyes to rub the tiredness that was creeping into them.

Rachel drops her arms to the side and watches Quinn trace circles just above her left breast as Quinn rests her head on her chest. She licks her lips, removing a strand of blonde hair that fell over her hazel eyes.

She smiles dreamily at Quinn, before finding her words again. "Yes," she answers, making Quinn look up at her with curiosity. "I believe it's possible to have love at first sight because I have it right now. And I'll never love another,"

Quinn smiles brightly, before leaning back in to capture Rachel's lips with her own. She slides on Rachel's body, lowering her kisses downward towards the exposed skin of her stomach to show Rachel exactly how much she loves her.

…

Santana makes her way into her cabin with Brittany behind her. She honestly didn't know what she was thinking bringing a first class woman into a third class cabin. There are rats and no bathroom—they have bunks for crying out loud. Santana felt slightly mortified at the sudden idea of it all being too unappealing to Brittany, but when they entered the room, Santana didn't see an ounce of disgust in Brittany's features—just curiosity and what looked like excitement to her.

"I apologize that it isn't much," Santana tells her, tossing her coat on the top bunk when she noticed Quinn wasn't in it—even their Asian roommates weren't back yet. She shrugged at the thought, she didn't think too much of it.

After Brittany overlooked the tiny room, her eyes finally landed on Santana and she smiled warmly. "It's alright. I like it," she shrugs, sitting down on the bottom bunk. Santana stops her movements for a moment to reflect on what Brittany had just said, but she really couldn't force herself to go too far into that either.

She pulled her suspenders down so they were hanging carelessly by her legs. She slipped her shoes off and finally sat down next to Brittany. She placed herself in the bed more comfortably and laid the notebook on her chest.

Brittany watched her do all of this almost questionably. It seemed as if everything she did brought her so much want and understanding. She still felt like she didn't know enough about Santana—not nearly enough, but Santana didn't know much about her either, but then again, Santana never inquired to know. She just assumed that Santana would learn as they went along.

She sighs contently laying down next to Santana, who offered up her pillow. Santana clears her throat tentatively, before opening the notebook.

"_April 12__th__ 1912: She's all I think about. These countless moments we spent together are like constant memories of what I'll never have. We desire things and people throughout our lives, but never once have I desired someone so much to a point of wanting to jump off into the seas and never return. I'm never one to believe that the people in your life decide your life and ultimate demise, but as I take in every part of her, I know what and who I want. I have countless internal battles with myself because of these feelings I've discovered. They are all I ever wanted. I'm lost in this internal battle and I can't ever break free. – Brittany S. Pierce_," Santana read softly aloud. Brittany continued to stare at her notebook as did Santana nervously. It was like as if Santana stripped her bare and she is truly seeing the depths of her soul. The ultimate truth that they both desperately wanted the other to know.

Santana has never been aware of Brittany's true feelings for her, but they're as clear as day on this paper. She has wanted Brittany to feel the same as she does since she's laid her eyes on her, but Brittany is like a prisoner in her own world that Santana is even more aware that Brittany wouldn't break free from Finn nor her mother, at least not willingly.

It's painful, but what can she possibly do? She turns her gaze to Brittany and says the one thing that comes to mind.

"It's beautiful. To believe you're not a good writer would be an insult," Santana tells her, closing the notebook. Brittany couldn't look at Santana because then she really wouldn't be able to stop herself from ruining her engagement.

_I already am. _

Santana takes the silence as that probably wasn't what Brittany was looking for her to say. But what could she say or do? Tell her the truth and then what? Brittany made it very clear that even though she has all these feelings for her, she can't act upon them.

Santana sighs deeply, running her hands over her eyes to prevent the headache that is forming. She just couldn't handle all of this, so she just lays there in silence with Brittany.

They don't talk about the revelation Santana encountered. They just lay there, until pretty soon, Santana finds her way back to Brittany to see her eyes have now closed and she's curled up in a ball, trying to get warm.

Her lips have a slight pout on them and her nose begins to crinkle every now and then when the wind from the opened window picks up. Santana feels a smile beginning to form on her lips as she continues to watch the person she's in love with. She can admit that she has fallen for Brittany, but…

_She'll never be mine._

Santana inhales a breath and leans over Brittany's sleeping form to place the notebook down on the table behind the bed. When she gets back into her position she sees now that Brittany has placed her arm tightly around her waist and has nuzzled into her side. Santana takes this moment to just absorb the sight. She's holding her and she knows that if she moved her arm, she'd desperately regret it, so she doesn't. She just leaves it there and watches the young woman sleep peacefully.

Santana moves a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear carelessly, before she closes her eyes to suffer the same fate.

…

_April 13__th__, 1912_

"Must you go?" Rachel whines with her hair disarray and her body wrapped with the sheets to shield herself of the cold. It's the early morning—way too early to even be considered a new day, but Quinn knew she has been gone far too long and she really felt that Santana could be worried about her.

Quinn placed her dress over her head with her hair, too in a mess, but her smile never once faltered. She turns to the smaller girl and notices the disappointment written on her features. She sighs deeply and leans down, kissing her softly and lingering just enough to convey the love they just shared.

"Yes because I've been gone far too long and Santana could possibly be worried," Quinn tells her, pulling away regrettably to get her shoes. She sits on the bunk as Rachel crawls up behind her and kisses along the back of her neck and under her ear. She captures her earlobe in between her teeth and gently sucks it in between her lips.

"Are you certain of that? She did leave with that girl from first class—Brittany isn't it?" Rachel asked, lowering her kisses back down her neck. She uses her hands to pull the sleeves of her dress down to expose bare shoulders, where she places more kisses on the newly bare skin.

Quinn hums and lolls her head to the side to give her more access—she really was making it difficult to leave. "Yes, but I'm positive she returned back to the cabin by now," she sighs deeply with each bit of contact Rachel made to her body.

Rachel takes a deep breath and continues her assault. "Santana is a big girl, Quinn. You forget that," Rachel persuades, sliding her hands under the dress to rest on Quinn's hips. "Please stay with me tonight," she whispers into her ear with a husky, low tone of voice that sends rippling chills up and down Quinn's spine.

Quinn turns her head to Rachel, before sighing deeply and dropping her shoes to the floor with a thud. She crosses her legs over Rachel's body after laying her down. She captures her lips into a fiercely heated kiss, before mumbling.

"You will be the death of me Rachel Berry," Rachel just smiles in response, deepening the kiss further, by placing her hands around Quinn's neck.

…

The sun shined brightly through the porthole window as the waves continued to hit against the sides of the boat. The cabin remained silent—not a peep was heard from neither of the four bunks, even though only one seemed to be occupied.

Through the night, Brittany seemed to move even closer to Santana—if it was even possible, and rested her head peacefully on the other young woman's chest. Santana managed to wrap her arm around her shoulder almost protectively to secure her to her side. At a glance it almost looked as if it had come naturally to both of them. Like they've been lying this way for years with one another and it just was normal.

Santana sighed in her sleep as Brittany stirred in hers, only to wrap her arm tighter around her waist.

The door of the cabin opened and in walks in Quinn with her hair disheveled, holding her coat on her arm. She turned around after shutting the door and noticed her friend wrapped with the girl she was in love with. Quinn smiled at the sight before her wanting desperately for them to have a happy ending like she and Rachel have—or perhaps, a happy beginning.

She tossed her coat up on her bunk as Santana sighed again deeply in her sleep, stirring from her slumber. She strained her vision to see Quinn leaning against the bunk with a smirk upon her face and her arms crossed.

"When did you—," Santana began to speak only to have Quinn gesture with a finger to her lips to quiet her down.

"Shh," she says, pointing towards Brittany's still sleeping form. Santana looks down and suddenly takes notice exactly how close they seemed to have gotten during the night. Santana looks back up at Quinn almost for guidance, but all she was met with was a smile.

"Nothing happened," Santana whispers as if she needs to explain how they got in this position.

Quinn waves it off. "I'm not concerned," she jests looking down to the floor to hide the smile from growing any bigger than it already has. Walking in on her friend sleeping with Brittany, even if it was simple and innocent made her heart swell. And after the night she had with Rachel, well it just took everything. This journey is beginning exactly as it should for her, and she hopes it'll keep getting better.

Brittany opens her eyes without stirring, so it goes unnoticed to both girls, who seemed to be off in their own oblivious. She looks around and notices how she's laying with Santana and how her arm is wrapped, almost protectively around her shoulder. She grins down at Santana's covered stomach, before she realizes the daylight peaking in.

"Oh shit," she says quietly, but it was loud enough to get both Quinn and Santana's attention. They look over at her with confusion—not exactly the way they expected her to wake up. "I have to go," she adds, getting up and off the bunk sliding her shoe back on.

"Well at least let me walk you back," Santana insists, getting up as well and Brittany stops. She looks over at Santana with sadness, before shaking her head.

"I can't let you do that—and we—we probably shouldn't see each other anymore," Brittany utters, placing her other heel on before walking out of the room. She doesn't look back at either girl as she leaves because as hard as it was for Santana to hear those words—it was even harder for her to speak them.

…

"She just said that they couldn't see each other anymore. I mean, I just can't understand this. She's happy with Santana, I know it. I fucking know it!" Quinn paces back and forth on the deck in front of Rachel, who is sitting on the bench watching her love.

She's yet to see this side of her. So angry and furious, when it isn't even at her nor anything that has happened between them. She knows Santana means the world to her, but never has she seen her so passionate about wanting her to be happy.

"Maybe she's afraid. Look at her position as a whole," Rachel reasons and Quinn stops to look at Rachel to give her a chance to say her piece. "This is all so new to her. Not only is Santana below her in social status, but she's a woman—beautiful if I might add, but even with that, she's engaged to a man of a higher level. It's a difficult position to be in. I know when I discovered I was in love with women it was terrifying because what would my family think? What would society think? They already place women on the level of animals—we don't have a say in anything we do, just imagine it from her side,"

Quinn sighs and takes a seat next to her girl and leans her head against her shoulder. Rachel can feel the overbearing feeling of depression taking over Quinn and she really didn't know what else to do. She was able to get her to calm down, but it didn't seem like enough.

"I just want her to have the same happiness we have, you know?" Quinn exclaims and Rachel nods, kissing the top of her head and begins rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"I know my love, but we can't force her to make that decision. Only Brittany can," They sit this way for a few moments, basking in the sun, but also the time they're spending together. Rachel knew Quinn was still thinking about the whole Brittany and Santana situation, but she didn't want to pressure her to stop—she couldn't anyway.

"I don't even think Santana has told her how she feels," Quinn mumbles to herself more so than Rachel, but it stops her motions and she takes in exactly what Quinn just said.

"You think so?" Rachel thinks out loud and Quinn raises her head from her shoulder to cast a curious glance at her.

Quinn shrugs. "I doubt it. Santana isn't one to speak of her feelings—she just writes and she hardly lets anyone see it,"

Rachel licks her lips and smirks over in Quinn's direction, raising an eyebrow at her suggestively. "I think I may have an idea, but we have to get Santana to willingly agree to it,"

…

Santana lays in her bed, staring up at the mattress above—has been, since Brittany left. She couldn't stop her mind from whirling around about what she could've done wrong. She knew she should've woken Brittany up that night, but she looked so serene; she just didn't have the heart to do so. And it didn't help that she just selfishly wanted to keep the moment going longer; to have her in her arms.

She sits up and looks around the quiet room for the first time. She never felt more alone than she did in this moment. She sighs deeply, placing her feet on the floor, running her hand through her hair. She needed answers. She hated to admit it, but she needed her father.

He always knew what to say to make her feel better. She never encountered the problems she's facing now when he was alive, but she just felt like he'd understand it. Her father and her mother were the spitting image of a fairytale. Finding love in a hopeless place even when it was forbidden and even if the ending was tragic, it didn't mean their love died with them. It still lives and Santana finds herself reminding herself that her parents' love lives within her; it is why she feels things so deeply, but it is also why she is so guarded.

"I can't keep fighting with whatever I did wrong," she tells herself. "I have to do what I should've done in the beginning," she gets up and pulls her suspenders on, grabbing her coat from the top bunk and goes to grab her shoes, when she stops in front of the table with Brittany's leather bound book on the top.

She picks it up and runs her fingertips over it as if she needed confirmation that she's doing the right thing. She takes a deep breath and opens it to the page before the previous entry she read the night before.

_April 11__th__, 1912: They say that love at first sight doesn't exist and I was beginning to believe it too. Something about the way she looks at me like I'm the only one in the room makes my heart swell. I can't explain it and I'm not sure I ever could. I read countless stories about love and how you should always feel your heart beating incredibly fast whenever they're around or you shouldn't ever have a frown plastered upon your lips whenever they're around—and with her, I feel like that constantly. It means something, but I'm afraid. I find her harboring my dreams and the realism of it all is almost too much to bear that I awake and find myself wrapped in the arms of someone else, and suddenly my world comes to a screeching halt. Perhaps, I'm always going to know where my heart truly lies, but I'll deny it until the day I die. –Brittany S. Pierce_

Santana feels tears welling up in her eyes, but she remains composed. She closes the book up and clutches it to her chest. It was the confirmation she needed. Brittany may deny her feelings till she dies, but Santana refused to let herself do that. So she runs out of her cabin with the book in tow to find Brittany.

…

Santana looks around the ship that she was allowed to be, until she finally decides to break the limits. She slides past a few onlookers, before sliding into the dining hall where she once was a guest. She lets out a huff of a breath she didn't even realize she was holding when she spots in a room, Brittany with her mother and Finn next to her.

She looked beautiful, but happy? She most certainly did not. Santana could see it and Brittany could fool everyone else, but not her. She walked down the rest of the stairs to see two men blocking the door. She could hear singing of a religious tune that Santana didn't recognize, but she wasn't one to believe in God.

She moves to walk in but is stopped by the men.

"You can't go in there Miss," one says in a heavy British accent. Santana tries to push her way in, but is still stopped and pestered.

"I just need to give this to someone in there, please," Santana presses and they continue on with their refusal.

She sighs heavily, when she notices Finn looking over in her direction while Brittany's attention continued to remain in the book. He had a devilish smirk plastered upon his face and it forced Santana's grasp on the notebook to tighten as well as her jaw.

Until finally Noah comes out to look into the commotion "Is there a problem?" He asks with his hands placed in his pocket. Santana saw the shiny pistol in its holster, seeing as his jacket is wide open. She looks back up at him and he has just as devilish of a grin as Finn had.

She shakes her head slightly. "Just give this to Brittany please. It belongs to her," Santana tells him. He takes the book in his hand and nods, before she places her hands in her pockets to walk away from the men.

She turns around to see Noah already has gone back inside and through the window she sees Brittany now looking out in her direction. They lock eyes and both feel the same feeling forming in the pit of their stomach.

That pain that was once there and evaporated when they were alone together has now formed again. And as Brittany watches Santana walk away from her, she feels that sense of abysmal regret pooling within her abdomen.

She closes her eyes to seal the tears from coming out of them, but she fails desperately.

…

Finn had decided that Brittany and he should have lunch together with just the two of them. They haven't spent much time together since they boarded the ship, so it's only natural that they do just this. While Finn orders for them both, Brittany finds herself occupied with her own thoughts of another. It seemed to always be this way and she knows for as long as she's alive and not with her, her mind will always venture off like this.

"So I've been giving some thought about the wedding and I feel that we should marry as soon as we dock," he tells her swishing his brandy in his cup, before taking a sip of the bitter alcohol. Brittany looks up at him and nods distantly.

Finn places his cup back down on the cloth covered table and watches her carefully, before slamming his hands on the table. Brittany jumps with a fright, forcing her heart to beat at an unimaginable rate.

"I don't want you to see her again," he warns her and Brittany gulps. She turns her eyes away from him and takes a sip of her water.

"I haven't," she tells him quietly, avoiding eye contact for as long as she could.

Suddenly a slam on the table causes her to wince a little before she looks up to see her notebook on the table. She glances up at Finn, who has his jaw clenched, which would also means his fists were as well.

"You write about her constantly since you've met and talk about how awful it feels to be in my arms," he seethes, before placing his hands on the sides of the table. He stands up and hovers over the table and at her. "You see her again and I'll make sure that you won't ever be able to again, do I make myself clear?"

Brittany's eyes widen in horror at Finn's words. What would he do to Santana? He wouldn't do a damn thing, but he would have Noah do something and she knows he's not the least bit shy about taking orders from Finn.

She lets out a shaky breath as tears well up in her eyes. "Yes," she tells him as her bottom lip quivers under his scrutiny.

His face softens after getting what he wants. "Good, now shall we eat," he asks in more of a statement as he takes his seat once again. Brittany continues to sit there terrified at the thought of losing Santana completely, and the only way to make sure she doesn't is to respect his wishes and never see her again.

* * *

><p><strong>You guys are amazing, but I want to direct something to you all. You're all terrified of continuing this story or already bracing yourselves for Santana's demise when you forget this is supposed to be loosely based off the movie, it doesn't mean Santana's going to die, but it doesn't mean Santana's going to live either. I haven't completely made up my mind, so just don't jump to conclusions just yet. So keep reading and keep reviewing and we'll tackle that obstacle when it get's closer; the ship hasn't even hit the iceberg yet.<strong> **Anyway, let me know what you guys think, as always.**

**(lacksubstance . tumblr . com)**


	7. Chapter 7

_April 14__th__, 1912_

_As I pour my heart out to you, I watch you break down at the seems. This is harder for you than it is for me. It's almost painful to watch your once glowing eyes, now be glassed over in such distraught. You're everything I want and if I could just taste those supple lips just once, I know you would have me trapped in your deep abyss for eternity - Santana Lopez.  
><em>

…

Santana steps down the stairs from the top deck. More so was escorted down and pushed through the gate. Security was bound to get tighter when word around the decks that a third class woman kept visiting where she shouldn't. Hundreds of people have seen her and she didn't hide her presence, someone was bound to inform an official and just that occurred. Now she was permitted not to come back and if she did so and was caught again, the Master at Arms would have to deal with that.

Santana knew full well it couldn't have been some random civilian because she had no real interest and none seemed to truly care all that much; they stared briefly then went on with their lives, but then there was one or more so three distinct people that had a problem with her presence—she knew at least one of them had tipped off the officials to tighten the security.

_Finn Hudson. _She thinks as she stumbles slightly when the men give her a slight push. She sighs deeply to contain the anger that is transpiring and walks to the front deck where she usually sits. It's where she first laid eyes on Brittany and to believe that only happened a little under three days ago is surreal. She feels as if she's known Brittany for much longer with the way her feelings are harboring so much want and heartache all at the same time.

She sits on the bench with a huff, running her hand through her pulled back hair. She didn't want to give up on Brittany—she couldn't. The thought of losing Brittany to a man, who was nothing but devious tore her apart inside. She just couldn't imagine them having an amazing life where Brittany's happy all year round, where she will grow up to have children and they'll look just like her with a slight mix of him, she couldn't imagine them being all that happy with their father—hell she couldn't imagine him ever being around to watch his children grow. The mere thought of them baring children together brought a foul taste in her mouth.

"Santana!" she hears off in the distance someone call her name, but she ignored it; too deep in the thoughts of Brittany ever being comfortable and loved the way she should be if she remained with Finn.

"Santana!" she hears again and this time she decides to look up to see Quinn and Rachel walking swiftly towards her, with their hands linked.

_At least someone got their happiness_. Santana tells herself as they approach her, breathing a tad heavier than normal.

"We've been looking everywhere for you," Quinn tells her and Santana finally takes in her surroundings.

"Well you found me," she holds her arms out as a gesture of where she is and Quinn just merely rolls her eyes at the lack of enthusiasm.

"Have you told Brittany how you feel?" Rachel bluntly asks. She and Santana were never one to be close, but Quinn cares deeply for her and Rachel knew she had to at least try and help her, for Quinn's sake. Even so, she didn't think Santana was a bad person—not even the slightest bit, but Santana never really had a liking to her from the beginning and she knows she only deals with her for Quinn's sake as well. In the end, everything was for Quinn and they tolerated one another's graces.

Santana looks down and lets out a breath she's been holding. "No," she states pointedly and looks back up at them to see the big smile that now occupies Quinn's face.

She looks at it confused, before Quinn speaks. "You have to," she tells her friend, who just lets out a breathy chuckle.

"I can't," she shakes her head and Quinn sits down next to her as Rachel remains standing, watching the entire scene play out before her.

"Why not? Anybody with eyes can see she feels the exact same as you do, so what are you waiting for?" Quinn asks, using her hands for emphasis.

"Because—I 'm not allowed on that deck. Security is ten times tighter than it was before because of her fiancé and I can no longer be in that vicinity or I'll be arrested," Santana exclaims, pointing to the top deck that is reserved for the first class passengers.

Rachel looks back at the entrance, before turning back to the two young women before her. "Perhaps a lift will suffice?" She shrugs as they turn their attention to her. She has a simple grin on her lips and suddenly they both smile at her.

Santana gets up from her seat as does Quinn, before clutching Rachel into a bone crushing embrace. "You are a genius Berry," she tells her, kissing the top of her head with bubbling excitement rushing through her entire body. Quinn laughs at the actions while Rachel stands there frozen in what looked like shock and fear all mixed together.

…

"Perhaps I should've revaluated this in my thought process," Rachel grunts as she and Quinn push Santana up to the railing. While Rachel and Quinn's height ratio is off by four inches, it causes a tad bit of difficultly while forcing Santana up to grab something to pull her over the side.

"Why what's the problem?" Quinn asks, having no qualms or difficulty, pushing Santana up on her end, seeing as they've done things such as this on numerous occasions.

Rachel winces when Santana's foot connects with the side of her face. "Ow! Well for starters, she's digging her foot into my collarbone and shoulder and she just kicked me in the face," she seethes as Quinn smirks at her girlfriend, who clearly wasn't having the time of her life doing this.

"It's okay my love, we'll take care of your injuries later," Quinn whispers placing a light kiss on her lips, only to be met by a few more from Rachel, who seemed to feel a lot better after that. Doing these actions forces Santana's steady footing to get a little off balance.

She looks down to see what they're doing and rolls her eyes at the scene. "Guys can you please save that for later!" she whispers in a bustling tone. They pull away at the sound of Santana's voice like they had something to hide and were just caught.

They gave her one final push before Santana grabbed the bar with a groan. She held it tightly and pulls herself the rest of the way up, looking both ways before sliding her way up to land on the other side of the first class deck.

"Good luck!" Quinn calls out to Santana, who looks down at her with an expression that says 'thank you, but shut your mouth,' since silence is the best way to be stealthy. Quinn and Rachel end up walking away, hand in hand while Santana continues to set out what she was planning to do.

Santana looks around the area for a moment, grabbing a hat off one of the lounge chairs because she has her own coat. She placed it on, hiding her pulled back hair in her shirt to walk the area, hoping she'll catch sight of Brittany somewhere.

…

Brittany walks the deck with her mother, Noah, and Finn along with the ship's builder, Thomas Andrews. Finn organized a tour for the four of them to become acquainted with the man who made this dream possible, but also to make sure that Brittany remains true to her word. Something about how Brittany has acted made his trust in her slowly dissipate, not that he ever did have trust in her; simply just wanted her loyalty—he valued it. And the fact that her mother showed far more loyalty to him than his own fiancé—well he couldn't just let that happen.

Brittany really didn't mind the tour. She enjoyed learning of the construction of the ship, how they managed to create such a large mass of such stature, and how each extra piece was implanted to finish the final touches. It truly was remarkable, but according to any man, women really didn't have an interest in engineering; they merely dealt with it.

However, though the tour is lovely, she didn't ask questions, but she definitely did have quite a few. Perhaps the thought of a ship being deemed unsinkable is just asking to be proved wrong, like God will punish you for deeming the impossible. Looking at all the lifeboats on board she's come to the conclusion that even with the amount of boats they have secured on decks, there wouldn't be enough for everyone—half the people on this ship will suffer a grueling fate. It is undoubtedly a terrifying thought to say the least.

"Mr. Andrews, say the ship was to be in danger of sinking, what would be the protocol for the lifeboats, seeing as there isn't enough boats for everyone aboard," Brittany questions as everyone stops to stare at her with such bewilderment. She hasn't made, not a peep since they began; they assumed she hasn't been listening, but she does her best thinking when she isn't speaking.

Thomas stops and smiles warmly at her, proud that she took notice of that detail—though he isn't proud of _the detail_, seeing as he wasn't the one who agreed to have such a low number of lifeboats. "Well nothing gets passed you Brittany, but if there was to be a situation, the officers would be asked to board women and children first—usually first class would begin it, but I can assure you I've built a strong ship," he tells her, his smile never once faltering. He hits his cane against one of the iron walls and she grimaces at the thought, still not convinced.

"Well it'd be of the better half at least," Finn chuckles as does her mother and Noah. Thomas merely smiles at the comment, not wanting to say anything that would offend the man, before then continuing onward.

Brittany casts her eyes down to the deck at the comment_. Santana would've never said such a thing. The death of people is no jest and yet I'm stuck in this life to hear countless comments such as that. _She stands there as everyone else walks ahead, riddling with the thought spinning in her head. Her mind still somehow managed to compare Santana with Finn, and she wished it'd stop.

She braces herself against a wall, where she closes her eyes as the wind picks up. She feels someone encircle their arm around her waist and pull her off the wall. She opens her eyes to get a glimpse of the top hat and black trench coat, but she doesn't make out the person.

She's pulled into a room with workout equipment and she stands there waiting for them to reveal themselves. They pull the hat off and pull their hair out of their shirt to reveal Santana standing before her.

"I cannot be here with you," Brittany states immediately ready to make her way back out of the room, only to be pulled back and cornered on both sides by Santana's arms.

"Please—just let me say a few things, please," Santana nearly begs and Brittany takes a deep breath, bracing herself for the words that are about to come. She's petrified by what Santana could possibly say and do, but she waits. She waits for the words that don't come right away because unknown to her Santana, too is as terrified as she.

"Brittany—," she begins softly, looking deep into her eyes. She licks her lips subconsciously, suddenly feeling her throat going dry. "Brittany, I risked getting arrested to see you again. I know you told me that you can't see me anymore and I understand that, but I can't let you go without telling you some things that have been causing me pain and grief, but all the while, causing me gratification that I never thought I could have," she presses on and Brittany continues to stare at her with big, wretched, eyes that are slowly glassing over.

"You are the first person I told in depth of my parents—not even Quinn knows it. I hold that story close to my heart because they loved so strongly and maybe that's why I love just as powerfully. I never felt that kind of love before—I knew when I'd find it. It'll feel like you're dying inside when they're no longer near you, it'll feel intoxicating when they are around, and you'll feel your heart swell at everything they do or say, even if it's the simplest of things. And I have found that…" Santana's voice begins to crack under her words when she sees Brittany's tears streaming down her face and pretty soon hers follow in suit.

"I can't let you go without knowing—that I love you and maybe in another life you'd be brave enough to want the same. I know you feel the way I do and I know you are scared. I can't promise you a big house or even children for that matter, but I can promise to love you each and every day till the day I die, if you let me," Santana sobs as Brittany breaks down in front of her. It's what she's wanted to hear since she's admitted her feelings for the other girl, but—the words of Finn keep running over and over in head.

_You see her again and I'll make sure that you won't ever be able to again, do I make myself clear? _Noah is trigger happy and the thought of anything happening to Santana, whether it's to that extent or not really brought the weight of the world on her shoulders. Everything felt heavy and like the walls would close in.

"Brittany, I love you so much," Santana breaths out, leaning forward to get ready to taste Brittany's lips for the first time, only to have Brittany turn her head away with her eyes tightly shut and her breathing out short breaths, like she's having some sort of panic attack.

"I can't," she whimpers, shaking her head furiously, before turning back to Santana's painful eyes.

"What are you so afraid of?" Santana asks, wiping her tears away quickly. She needed to know what the problem was. Why was she so deathly afraid of being with her this badly? Even though she says she doesn't value the security, is she lying to her?

"He will kill you," Brittany whispers between her tears and Santana stops her motions, looking at her in disbelief. "He saw my notebook and threatened me with if I saw you again, he would make sure I couldn't, and I agreed not to because I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you," she sobs, sliding down to the floor. This is becoming all too overwhelming for her to grasp. To have the girl she loves tell her she feels the same and not be able to do anything about it because the man she's supposed to marry is willing to kill her to make sure they don't ever get together is too devastating to deal with.

Santana stands there for a moment, taking in what Brittany had just said, before taking a few cautious steps towards her. She leans down on her knees and takes her in her arms, and lets her cry into her chest. Santana gulps and as much as she wants to believe it's over between them—she couldn't give up; not yet—not till she has her.

"You don't have to save me Brittany. I can take care of myself, besides Finn is all bark and no bite," she tells her, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Brittany sniffles, still laying her head against Santana's chest. She could feel her heart racing against her ear—is this what she does to her? "It isn't Finn I'm concerned about—it's Noah," Brittany confesses and Santana only holds her tighter.

"I'm not letting you go, Brittany. Do you hear me?" Santana refuses to comment on what Brittany has said and pulls her up to look into those glassy blue eyes, wiping away loose tears. "I'm never letting go," she whispers to her, pulling her up with her.

Brittany wipes more tears away, taking Santana's hands in hers. "You saved my life and now I get to save yours. You have to let go of me Santana, like I will learn to let go of you," Brittany tells her, dropping her hands so they stand at her side, before walking out of the workout room, leaving Santana there with a deep feeling of depression washing over her.

…

Brittany makes her way back to her suite. She stands there for a moment to compose herself to her standards, so Finn couldn't see she's been crying. She licks her hand hoping to wipe away the stinky dryness on her cheeks. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, before opening them back up as well as the door.

She walks in, thankful that no one has returned from the tour yet. She slips her shall off and places it on the couch before settling down on it. She notices in the fireplace the burnt paper and leather in it. She already knew that Finn was planning to burn it as soon as he saw everything she had written about her love for another, but it still didn't change the pang she felt in her chest.

The door opens and she doesn't bother to turn her head when they stepped through the door. She felt them place a kiss on her cheek and walk away.

"Where did you run off to during the tour?" Finn asks, checking to see if everything is in place. Brittany turns around just for a moment to see him standing in front of the mirror, then turns back.

"I came back here. I was feeling ill, so I wanted to lay down," Brittany lies—only reason she didn't return to the tour was because she couldn't imagine where they had gone after all the time she spent persuading Santana to leave her be.

Finn turns away from his reflection, satisfied with not only his appearance, but by that answer. He walks over to her and sits next to her for a moment. He smiles warmly at her and leans over to kiss down her neck—never did she feel so disgusted feeling rough lips and a stubble chin before.

She remains still during this act of affection on his part until he started unbuttoning her dress. She grimaces at this before turning towards him. "Finn, I really am not feeling quite well. Perhaps later," she tells him and he pulls away with a sigh. He looks at her presence and she really doesn't seem all that well from looking at her.

Her face is red and her eyes look rather tired, so he nods. "Of course," he kisses her lips, before getting up. "I am off then," he echoes behind her.

"Where to?" She asks curiously, not making eye contact with him. He smiles at the back of her head, placing his suit coat back on, checking his appearance over once more.

"To discuss politics with my fellow gentlemen—nothing that would interest you," he exclaims only to have her smirk at the last comment. As he's about to walk out of the suite, her voice stops him from doing so.

"Do you believe women will ever have the right to vote?" She asks him curious of his answer. He only merely chuckles at the sudden question—it seemed unrealistic and completely impossible of that ever happening.

"Yes then a black man will become President," he laughs. "Don't waste your thoughts on pettiness such as that my love," he adds, before walking out of the suite, leaving her alone yet again.

She sighs deeply—his words echoed in her head. The more she thought about what he said the more she thought of Santana and how proud she'd be to be standing by her side. She knew she had made her choice, but did she really? Her thoughts were ringing through her mind and she wished they'd stop, but she knew deep down they wouldn't—not until she went for what she truly wanted.

Then a thought struck her like lightening to metal, did Santana really save her life at all if she wasn't willing to be with her? Did Santana risking being pulled over with her mean she did it for nothing? Her heart was aching and she needed her. She needed her more than she ever thought she needed someone before.

…

Quinn kisses down Rachel's neck and shoulders, noticing the way a bruise formed on her shoulders. She took extra special care of those key spots that Santana seemed to have damaged with her feet from before. To think it was all for nothing, really made her angry, but she knew it wasn't Santana's fault because she did what she set out to do, it just wasn't reciprocated.

She ran her nails down Rachel's bare sides enticing a shiver to run up her spine. She loved being wrapped in the other girl's arms. The warmth she felt when she kissed her and touched her in all the right places sent this hot feeling in her belly.

"Mmm Quinn," Rachel moans, when their cabin door is busted open, shocking them out of their love making.

"Ah! Oh my God! I am so sorry!" Brittany covers her eyes and turns away from the scene as the other girls struggle to cover up.

Brittany lets out an unsteady breath. "I'm just searching for Santana. I need to talk to her, please," she says. Quinn and Rachel exchange knowing looks, before turning back to Brittany who still had her back turned away from them.

"Probably where she first couldn't take her eyes off you," Quinn exclaims, causing Brittany to turn around slowly and she was about to ask where that was only to stop herself to look at them—it's when she realized she already knew.

She breaths out a smile, taking in their expressions. "Thank you," she says, before closing the door behind her to find the girl she loves.

* * *

><p><em>I know I promised to get them together this chapter, but I felt like it would be better next chapter. It will DEFINITELY happen next chapter, I promise you that. Thank you all for the reviews and I hope you guys continue to leave them for me. <em>


	8. Chapter 8

**Rated M for you know what? *wink wink***_  
><em>

_April 14__th__, 1912_

_We touch and it's like electricity is circulating within us. We're molded finally. You've brought me into your abyss and I know I will forever be your prisoner. –Santana Lopez_

...

The door closes and Quinn and Rachel are left in shock at what they've just encountered. The way Brittany ran in like there was some sort of emergency had both their hearts racing—as if they weren't prior during their _activities_. They sat with their nude bodies still covered with the tiny sheet in silence, trying to register what exactly just transpired.

"She's going to tell her," Quinn whispers finally in disbelief. Rachel turns her head to look at Quinn. She kept her head to the door that Brittany just ran out of. It seemed a bit surreal to think about. Rachel had this thought in her head that anybody like Brittany would never want to have anything to do with people like them. It makes her wonder what she really knew about Brittany; the fact is she doesn't know her at all.

"Tell her what?" Rachel knew the answer, but could all four of them really have all their dreams come true?

Quinn snaps her head to face Rachel, like it was obvious. "That she loves her. I mean why else would she run in here looking for her?" Quinn breaths out a laugh at the end, running her hand through her short hair. "I mean, San is going to have her dreams come true," she looks down at their hands and at how close they were. She locks her fingers with Rachel's and holds them in her lap.

"She's finally going to have what I have with you," she whispers, looking into her eyes and Rachel smiles warmly at her. She cups her cheek and strokes it gently before leaning in to capture her lips with her own and laying them back on down on the bed.

…

Brittany pushed the door open of the bottom deck. The deck where Santana always sat to write and take in the sun and as the sun began to set over the watery horizon, the air began to grow chilly. She began rubbing her arms as goose bumps arose on them. She knew she was probably nuts running out into this temperature with only a dress and short sleeves, but she needed to find her. She needed Santana to know the truth, even if she already does.

She sees Santana sitting on her bench, where she usually leaves her. She had her notebook, but didn't seem to be writing in it. She seemed to be lost in her past entries as Brittany slowly made her way towards her.

Her heels clicked lightly against the wood, but Santana didn't seem to pay attention. As Brittany continued to watch her flip through her pages, she could see how emotionless her eyes looked. They weren't the eyes she's used to getting lost in—they had no life. It broke her heart to think she caused that.

She gulps and finally stands in front of her. Santana is about to turn her next page, when she notices the fabric of her dress flowing in the wind. She stops and slowly raises her head to look at Brittany. Their eyes lock and it's no longer a mutual understanding to forget each other—because it's not possible.

"Tell me again," Brittany breaths out under a shiver. Santana stands up, closing her book and placing it on the bench. She takes in the girl's presence. She's terrified and shivering under her gaze. But she's standing here in front of her—giving herself to her.

"I love you—so much," Santana tells her in a mere whisper and as Brittany looks into her eyes she takes in the honesty, the adoration that is visible—and how she is no longer freezing, but burning up.

Brittany licks her lips subconsciously tearing her gaze away from Santana. She looks down as her heart begins to race unimaginably at the mere words hitting her ears again. She knew why she's here. She wants to be loved the right way and she's getting that—has since she and Santana met.

She tugs Santana by her suspenders, closer to her, making eye contact with her once again. Their bodies flushed together—the heat seeps out of their clothes as they never felt closer. Santana leans up and presses her hand to her cheek, running it gently across the soft skin. Brittany's eyes close at the sensation until she feels the gap close between them.

As their lips mesh together for the first time, it's the intensity that's building in both their abdomen that's fueling the kiss to become far more urgent. Never has Brittany felt such soft caresses and Santana feel so much for a person. It's different this time around because there's fire. Maybe not literally visible to the naked eye, but as she feels Brittany's tongue run along her bottom lip—she knows she was torched.

They pull away and are both left breathless under the purple and orange sky. Santana breaths out a smile as Brittany can't contain her own excitement by giggling at her reaction.

"Come on. I have something I want to show you," Brittany tells her, holding her hand out for Santana to take, which she willingly does so with a smile.

…

Upon entering the suite, Santana looks around in some form of amazement, even if it looks the same as Molly's. The thought of living in a place of such architecture and as striking as this, still took her breath away.

"San this way," Brittany's voice broke her concentration on the detail of the mantel above the fireplace. She could see the leftover ashes from pervious burns, instantly noticing the leather and some not completely burnt pages of writing. She grimaces at the thought of what Brittany must've felt when she discovered it.

She finally followed Brittany through a room and saw her leaning over by a night table. Santana stood against the doorframe with her arms crossed awaiting what it is she wanted to show her. Brittany rummaged through the contents until finally finding a piece of paper folded up in a Bible. She walked over to Santana and handed it to her.

"Wait here and please read it," she instructs, guiding Santana to the bed and had her sit down on it as she walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Santana watched the closed door for a moment, skeptical of what the other young woman could possibly be setting up, but she doesn't bother dwelling, but instead began reading what Brittany had asked her to.

_Your heat. Your breath. The way our bodies dance as one within the sheets. My heart beats against yours and I feel myself building up to the pleasure I've forever longed for. As you kiss down my neck and feel every part of my body—nothing goes untouched, I feel myself growing to the gratification I knew you've also longed for. As your breath begins to quicken and our movements become far for urgent, you know you have me right where you want me. I'm yours. Proudly so. – Brittany S. Pierce._

Santana pulls at her collar and clears her throat, she finds herself becoming uneasy. She blinks a few times, looking over the words once more until she finally hears another person's throat cleared. She looks up and her eyes widen at what she sees.

Brittany is now wrapped in a barely see through robe and from what Santana could tell, she wasn't wearing anything. Santana gulped at the thought of completely seeing her body for the first time. Then Brittany's words traveled back into her mind and she could feel herself getting scorching hot.

"Read the back," Brittany tells her, shutting the door and locking it behind her. She stood at the foot of the bed as she watched Santana flip the paper over and began reading to herself. "Out loud," she adds and Santana looks up, blue meeting brown and Santana nods frantically.

She immediately clears her throat and begins.

_As soon as our lips meet, I feel instant heat building to my core. My mind goes into a haze as you strip me of the fabrics I wear. I pull you close by the waist of your suspenders and we're now as one._

Brittany slips up on the bed as Santana begins reading, removing her robe in the process. Santana grows a little distracted as she takes in every muscle on her stomach, every curve of her hips and breasts, every freckle that lines along her abdomen and nose. Brittany slides on top of Santana and urges her to continue on with the reading as she pulls her suspenders off her shoulders.

_Pulling them down I feel myself growing more impatient, wanting to feel every part of you bare against me. I crave for the actions you will partake with me and how our bodies will run along each other, creating the friction we have both longed for._

Brittany has now discarded Santana's pants as she now lays with her shirt hanging lankly on her body. Santana gulps as Brittany slides completely on top of her, smirking slightly as she unbuttons Santana's shirt very slowly. Santana's eyes lock with hers, even though she knows she hasn't finished reading. Getting to the last button, she slips the shirt wide open to reveal Santana's bare chest. Brittany stops to admire the muscles that contract with every breath Santana takes and her full breasts in the open. She begins running her hands over her stomach and Santana's breath quickens. Brittany places light kisses along the muscles and Santana's hips push up subconsciously.

"Continue," Brittany breaths out against her skin. Santana becomes frazzled and begins reading again.

_Splaying light kisses and caresses along your body, I ache for your touch and your lips upon mine. We will lay together as you push your hand forward to where I need you most and forever will I passionately express my love for you and only you._

Breathing heavily, Santana places the paper on the table and pulls Brittany up to her, capturing her lips with her own. The growing want and need is evadible in the force that Santana takes. She pulls herself up in a sitting position with Brittany's legs wrapped securely around her waist. Brittany pulls the shirt completely off with her hands and removes her lips from Santana's, kissing her shoulders gently as Santana sucks on the burning flesh of her neck.

Brittany releases a guttural moan as Santana flips them around to lay Brittany down on the bed. Santana begins caressing her hips and stomach with her fingertips as she grinds her hips into Brittany to release some friction for the both of them.

Brittany moans, wrapping her arms securely around Santana's back. She begins trailing her lips from Brittany's neck to her chest, placing light feathery kisses around her nipple, quickening Brittany's breath as she does so.

"San," she whimpers as Santana attaches her lips around the nub, slowly running her tongue along it, cupping the other to toy with the now hardening nipple. Brittany continues to keep her legs wrapped around her waist as she runs her hips into Santana's, releasing a pleasurable groan from Santana's lips, forming a vibration around the nipple.

Santana removes her lips and trails her fingertips lower down Brittany's abdomen. She stares deep into her glazed blue eyes—glazed with want and need of release; of her. She makes her way to her destination and she continues to watch her for any looks of disapproval—there are none.

Santana closes the gap between their lips again and kisses her passionately, before placing her fingers into her core. Brittany moans into her mouth as Santana begins to move her hand at a slow rate—if any faster, she worried it'd be over too quickly and frankly she didn't want this moment to end.

She moved her hips with each movement of her hand as Brittany met her the rest of the way, feeling the gratification slowly begin building in her under belly.

Their paces begin to increase and Brittany lowers her hand down to Santana, forcing her own fingers between them, pushing into her. Santana broke the kiss to bite her bottom lip to prevent herself from growing too loud.

Both of their breathings increased quicker and more loudly as they pumped their hands into the other. Rocking back and forth, the bed too began to grow in sync with them.

Santana closes her eyes as she feels the pressure building up in her faster than she imagined.

"No, open your eyes," Brittany breaths out and Santana reopens them, looking deep into her eyes. Brittany pushes a piece of fallen hair away from Santana's face to get a better view of her and they continue to keep their eyes locked on one another—never feeling so connected in their entire lives.

Santana hits that one spot that sends Brittany into a world wind, releasing her pleasure. Her vision becomes clouded as she moans out her name as if to let everyone know who she belongs to—who her heart truly belonged to. Seeing Brittany release, it sent Santana suffering the same fate as she too moaned no one else's name but the person beneath her.

They slowed their pace down and they both began shaking, noticing the slick sheen of sweat over taking their bodies. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment longer, both spent after what had just occurred.

Santana searches Brittany's eyes, but only receives a smile before she quickly returns it and lowers her lips back to Brittany's for a much less heated kiss, which is easily returned. Santana pulls away before resting her head on Brittany's chest, taking in the heart beat that is Brittany. It's quick and as Brittany wraps her arms completely around Santana—she knows things are as they should be.

…

Santana walks back to her room with a smile on her face. Unfortunately she had to leave Brittany because of Finn and her mother, but she knew that after the moment they just shared, things between them were only beginning. They didn't speak of what Brittany was going to do, but Santana was sure that Brittany was going to stay with her—she just had a feeling.

She opened the door and instantly was met with curious eyes. Both Quinn and Rachel laid in the top bunk with their heads resting on their hands, facing the door. They both had awaiting smiles and hopeful looks for Santana, who just narrowed her eyes at the two.

She shook her head and shut the door, before crossing the room.

"You are just going to leave us to guess?" Quinn asks and Santana meets her eyes and shrugs, tossing herself in the bottom bunk. "Come on San!" she urges her, flipping over so she can look at Santana.

She watches her friend try desperately to get a rise out of her only to chuckle at her attempts. Santana tries to give her a serious look only to fail miserably by busting into a growing smile.

"Oh my God!" Quinn screams happily, hopping down from the bunk and tackling her best friend with glee. Rachel flips her head over to look at the two laughing like a bunch of teenagers.

"What? What happened? I didn't even hear her speak," Rachel says feeling like she missed the entire thing. Quinn just laughs at her girlfriend as she holds her best friend around the waist.

"She didn't have to. She can't stop that smile on her face. They definitely made love," she insists and Rachel steps down and stands there watching curiously at the two.

She waits for the confirmation and Santana just nods as the smile begins to appear on her face. Rachel smiles warmly at her and Santana rolls her eyes at her. "C'mon get in on this love fest," she tells her as Rachel hops in the bottom bunk with her girlfriend and her new friend to hug her too.

"I'm happy for you Santana. I know we're not close or even really friends, but I think you deserve as much happiness as anyone else," Rachel confesses and Santana smiles, nodding to gesture she was thankful.

"I appreciate that Rachel. But you're wrong," she tells her and Rachel looks at her confused. "You and I are friends. We're not close, but we can be," she adds and Rachel smiles widely at her, hugging her.

"I'd like that very much so," she says into the hug and all Santana can do is smile.

…

Santana went to sleep soundly and with the smile never leaving her lips. Above her laid, spent Quinn and Rachel, cuddled closely in the top bunk. Things were really looking up for the three of them. It seemed like this voyage really is something that only happens in fairytales—things should not happen like this to people like them, but it did and neither one could be happier.

On the other side of the boat, laid a very awake Brittany. Her mind was wandering to the brunette she just shared herself with, right where she now lays with Finn, who will forever have no idea of what transpired in this bed between the two young women. As she thought about it, a smirk began to form upon her lips, not only of the reminder of what happened, but that Finn is laying where another person—a woman no less, made love to his fiancée—it was as if to be spiteful to the man and that's exactly what she thought.

She was too spent to tell her mother and him of where her heart truly lied and it would make things far more complicated if she did so. She decided that she would continue to see Santana and upon docking, she'll leave the ship with Santana.

Her mother will be devastated, but she really couldn't care. She loved her mother dearly, but the woman will never understand true love and the beauty behind it. She has true love with Santana and the thought of letting that slip away was just something she couldn't bear, especially now that they've consummated it.

As she thought all of this, she felt a sudden ripple and the entire boat began to shake furiously. As if an earthquake was hitting them at this moment, a lamp hit the ground with such a force that it broke upon impact.

The shudder wakes Finn from his slumber and he quickly gets out of bed, grumbling under his breath about nonsense, before opening the door and walking out. Brittany watches him advance to the door as her mother runs in to the room to sit next to Brittany.

"Are you alright dear?" She asks concerned and Brittany just nods distantly, stepping out of bed and advancing towards the living room to look around at some loose pieces on the ground. She scans the area, before her eyes rest on the balcony and something instantly catches her eyes. She quickly runs outside and looks to her right to see a giant iceberg by their window.

"Brittany, what are you doing? It is freezing outside!" Her mother calls to her and her eyes only continue to hold on to the iceberg. Her mind goes to one thing and one thing only.

She had to get to Santana.

…

Santana wakes up with a jolt as does the Asians on the bunks over and the other two girls above her. They all instantly felt the shudder and upon getting up from her bunk, Santana is met with cold water hitting her feet. She runs to turn the light on and sees a rush of water seeping into their room.

"Oh shit," she says, grabbing Quinn and Rachel's attention. She looks up at them, grabbing her shoes to put them on and tossing them theirs. She places her coat on and they quickly follow after her out the door. Upon opening it the three of them see the rest of the passengers running out of their cabins.

"Where are we going?" Quinn asks her friend while holding Rachel's hand. Santana quickly makes her way through the crowd of people and runs up the stairs, before they have a chance to close the gates.

"We have to find Brittany," she tells her as they make their way up the deck to go on their search to find Brittany quickly.

* * *

><p><em>I'm sorry for the long wait. I guess if you're following me on Tumblr, you are probably aware that I've been writing a Quinntana and well it's kind of consumed me. Also, I just got a job, so you know how that goes. But I usually seem to only be working three days a week, except I got called in unexpectedly yesterday and I cleaned up soda and shit (yay! Not really). Anyway, thank you all for the reviews. However, I must warn you all that this will possibly be my last Brittana. I find that I'm losing interest in them period. It's nothing personal, I think they're an adorable couple on the show, but I've never written canon couples and it seems like I found this couple promising in the beginning, but old habits do not die hard, therefore I found new loves in Faberry and Quinntana (let's face it Faberry is probably secretly canon anyway, but still...) I'm sorry if that kills some people inside, but that's just how it is unfortunately. I may write one shots if inspired, but full lengths, I think this will be the end of the road. <em>

_So thank you all again for the reviews and please review this chapter as well._


	9. Chapter 9

_April 14__th__, 1912_

…

Brittany stands frozen like the iceberg that just passed her balcony. She couldn't find her breathing. Her heart is beating at an unimaginable rate. Her eyes have seen the unseen and she can't push it out of her thoughts.

"Brittany!" she hears the shrieking of her mother and it snaps her out of her trance. She steps up on the rail and takes one last look at the block of ice as the boat continues moving onward to its destination, before gulping and stepping down to walk back inside. By this time, Finn has returned and her mother is now sitting on the couch of their sitting area.

"They said it was nothing. Just a shudder; nothing to worry about," he explains and looks up at Brittany; her eyes are much like the color of ice—the ice that she just saw. He takes in her presence and the way she shivers, covering herself up completely under his gaze. "Let us just try and sleep some more, agreed?" He adds and her mother nods, getting up from the couch as he walks over towards Brittany to escort her back to bed.

"I saw an iceberg," she speaks and they both stop their motions and exchange looks. She blinks, gesturing to the balcony. "What if we hit it? There is a chance we could have because where would a shudder just randomly come from?" She asks no one in particular and Finn breaths out an amused chuckle. She eyes him with distaste—where does he get off just brushing off her concern?

"I don't know my dear, but I wouldn't worry if the staff isn't," he says, taking her hand only to have her snatch it back from him. She shakes her head rounding the corner of the couch. The anger she feels fueling through her is almost too much for the three occupants of the room to bear, especially when it is close to exposure.

"They are staff Finn. It is their job to not instill fear in the travelers, but what the hell do I know, right?" She shrugs and grabs her shoes and he begins to look at her with such fiery in his dark eyes. Never has she been so disobedient to him, especially in front of her mother—her elder. Here he is promising her the world in fortunes and she has the decency to talk back to him.

"Brittany, you don't speak that way," her mother jumps in and Brittany narrows her eyes, shaking her head furiously. Her mother's plans to marry her off like she was some sort of property of hers fueled the anger even further. To back up this man in everything he does, like her reading material about love, for her to write and express her feelings—to let him burn each and every possession she has that holds that special part of her heart. It angered her—she's a woman herself, she should understand the matters of the heart and the matters of how women are mistreated in this society.

"Mother shut up, okay. I've waited so long to tell you both these words, so now is a good time as any," she begins huffing as she gets the final shoe on. "Mother, we're broke, get over it. The only reason you wanted me to marry Finn is because he's security and you wanted to be taken care of, but since you adore Finn so much, you marry him," she tells her, her mother's eyes widen in absolute shock. She looks over at Finn whose jaw is clenched about ready to strike. What has gotten into this girl?

"And Finn," she stops for a beat, giving him a smirk. "I made love to Santana on our suite bed just hours ago and I never felt better. I hope you feel what it is like to have someone else—a woman no less, touch your fiancée the way you are supposed to," she breaths out with a chuckle, pushing the door open, then turns around for one last parting words

"Also, I'm getting off the boat with her because that's what you do when you love someone. You go with them and you stick by them. As I look at you both, I have nothing but hate for you," she finishes and slams it shut behind her, feeling as if a small weight has been lifted off her shoulders. Now it was time to find Santana.

…

They push their way through the crowd of third class people who have migrated up the stairs, finally reaching the dock. Santana breathes heavily as Quinn and Rachel rush up to her side. They look both ways and are baffled by the commotion as staff pulls lifeboats off their ropes and the lines that have already formed for them.

"Ladies and gentleman! I need your attention please!" They turn their attention to the man with a gun in his hand—why he needs that, they don't know, but they definitely didn't want to double cross him. "We have been informed that we need first class women and children only!" Santana turns back to her friends only to downcast her gaze to the wooden floorboards of the dock. She needed to find a way to locate Brittany quicker than she anticipated. There are only about twenty lifeboats and they could be launched off quickly.

"If we can find Brittany, we can get her on a boat—so she'll be safe," she tells them and they nod, wondering when that happens what their fate will be. If first class is first, then second class; it'll be their turn, then what? No one truly knows the accumulation of women and children in each class; and that's scary.

Santana looks up at them and gestures for them to follow her through the doors of the dining hall. She scans the area overhead and looks for any flash of blonde hair, hoping for any chance of locating her. All she can see is random people she remembers seeing from dinner, then someone stands out to her.

"Stay here," she tells them and runs down the stairs, making her way up to the familiar figure. "Molly! Molly," she says and she turns around, greeting her with a wide smile.

"Santana honey what are you doing in here?" She says and Santana's face is held with worry, Molly's smile soon dissipates at the expression. "Do you know anything?" She asks, placing a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

"The boat is sinking—I'm sure of it. They're loading first class women and children as we speak, but I need to find Brittany and get her on one of those boats before it's too late," she explains frantically and Molly's eyes widen at the information the staff failed to mention. She nods quickly and pulls Santana into a hug. A hug that could mean just about anything at this point; a good luck, a goodbye.

"Do you know where I could find her perhaps?" Santana asks after pulling away from the embrace and Molly gives her a hint of a smile, nodding distantly.

"Besides her suite, I can tell you, you already know that answer," she says and gives her hand a squeeze, before walking off with her lifejacket on and out of the hall to get to the line for a boat.

Santana's head is buzzing with the possibilities. Where the hell would Brittany go? Santana's head begins to hurt as she sits down on the steps for a moment to collect her thoughts. How could this happen? She pours her heart out to a girl she knows she shouldn't be with and it's returned, then tragedy hits. Were they not meant to be after all?

"Father give me a sign, please," she whispers quietly. During times like this, she'd seek out her father's guidance. Her parents know a thing or two about forbidden love and maybe that's why she pursued it, hoping that the greatest gift could come out of it. For her parents it was her that was their greatest gift, but nonetheless, their love was their downfall. It seems so familiar, does it not?

"Santana!" She hears overhead. She looks up and sees Rachel and Quinn pointing out at the doors and Santana gets up, running up the steps to where they're pointing. Santana's eyes go red at what she sees.

…

Brittany rushes to the elevator and tells the man who monitors it what deck to go to. He looks at her strangely, wondering why she wants to go down towards the 3rd class deck, but he doesn't question it. The ride is short and quiet, the only things that could be heard was the thoughts running through Brittany's head.

She pushes the gate open and runs towards the stairs, pushing through the crowd of people to get down the hall to Santana's room. When she hits the floor, her shoes instantly get soaked by the freezing cold water that's quickly accumulating from room to room down the hall.

She moves through the crowd and finds Quinn's and Santana's room, pushing it open to see it has been vacant. She breaths out a sigh of both relief and frustration. Relief that Santana and Quinn left as soon as possible and frustration that she can't locate them.

She stands there for a moment, soaking in the thought, then pushes it aside to really think about where they could've gone, then it registers almost instantly.

_She went looking for me._

Her eyes widen at the thought. What if she goes to the suite? What if she happens to run into Finn and her mother after everything she told them about what transpired between them? As magical as it was for the two of them, it most definitely won't be reciprocated by the other two people.

She runs out of the room and makes her way quickly up the stairs, just as the stairs are being closed off, leaving the rest of the 3rd class stranded. Brittany disregards the elevator all together and pushes her way up the stairs, through the crowd.

The top deck have officially been filled to the bone as they launch off boats full of first class women and children. Brittany's heart races—she could very well get on that boat right now, but her mind only wanders to the thought of leaving Santana behind. She couldn't do it. She couldn't ever leave her now.

As she gets ready to push through the rest of the crowd her wrist is grabbed tightly and she's forced around. She's pushed firmly against the wall. She gasps in slight pain and she sees the fire burning in Finn's eyes as he stares at her.

"You dare embarrass me like this," he seethes. "You dare be unfaithful and you dare leave me for a whore who will never be able to give you the things I can. A house, children, money," he grips her wrist tighter and she looks at him with such hate, but fear welling up within her abdomen.

"I'd rather not bare children if they have half your gene makeup," she spits back and he smacks her right across the face hard, pushing her harder into the wall. She groans out in total pain.

"You don't dare speak to me that way!" He yells just as a fist lands right into his jaw, loosening his grip off her wrist along with the force on her body.

"And you don't dare touch her like that again!" Brittany looks over at the person, who sent Finn straight to the ground and sees the concerned brown orbs she's fallen for. "Are you alright?" It's Santana and all Brittany can do is tug her into her, hugging her tightly, burying her face into her shoulder. She takes in the scent that is all Santana, kissing up her neck until placing her lips on hers.

Santana runs her thumb gently over Brittany's red cheek, before placing her lips on it gently several times. "You're fine now," she tells her softly and Brittany just nods burying herself into her arms again.

"I hate to interrupt, but we need to get her on a boat now," Rachel says, clutching on Quinn's hand and Santana nods over at her. Brittany lifts her head, shaking her head at the idea.

"No, no I just found you again. I'm not leaving you," she tells Santana as tears well up in her eyes. Santana grimaces at her wiping the tears away with the pad of her thumb.

"I know, but I can't breathe any easier if you're not safe," she exclaims softly, pulling her towards the boat. "I'll get another one. I mean how many women and children are in first and second class, right?" She breaths out a chuckle and Brittany exchanges looks with the other two women next to them. They smile encouragingly at her and she looks back at Santana.

Brittany forces herself forward crashing her lips with Santana's, kissing her like it's the last time she'll see her again. "I love you," she whispers as tears stream down her cheeks, mixing with Santana's.

Santana nods breathlessly. "Say it one more time for me till I see you again," she states more than asks, even if it wasn't difficult to make Brittany say it—she could say it over and over till the day she dies.

"I love you. I love you. I love you," she whispers into her lips, between kisses and Santana closes her eyes tightly, sealing them shut, but not successful enough to stop the tears from falling.

"All right, now get on," she says holding her hand out, getting her ready to get on the boat and Brittany turns back to Santana, not letting their hands free.

Brittany takes a seat just as the staff breaks their hands apart. It felt like a symbolic meaning, that fate is going to tear them apart. It wretched Brittany's heart to watch Santana standing on the deck, knowing she is in complete danger while she sits in this lifeboat about ready to be rowed to safety. Her new friends are in the same position as well, but it makes it easier that they're in the same class. Brittany feels the tears taking over her and she wants with every fiber in her being to just jump out of the boat and into Santana's arms; that this is all some twisted dream.

But she hears the screams and she sees the guns shooting off to quiet people down. She sees the flares lighting up the night sky to get a signal from a passing ship and she sees the way passengers have prepared themselves for the worst, throwing off furniture for something to grab on till they hit the icy water. It's a nightmare and here she is just left to watch as Santana stares back at her, hoping that they mutually find their way back to one another.

"No, no what are you doing?" A voice breaks their gaze apart as they turn their attention to the small commotion from Quinn. She's being pushed forward by Rachel and as she tries to push back, Rachel only pushes her more forcefully until she's in the middle.

"Get in the boat, please," Santana hears Rachel beg the other blonde and Quinn is shaking her head furiously, tears welling up in her eyes. "I need you to be safe," she breaths out, her voice breaking at the thought of leaving her as well.

"No, I'm not leaving you two—the two most important people in my life, no way, no," she says frantically as tears streak down her cheeks. She looks between them and Santana looks away, back at Brittany, who's back to looking at her. Santana wanted Quinn to be safe just as much as she wanted Brittany to be safe. The thought of losing them both tore her insides apart, so she couldn't protest against Rachel's wishes. It's what she just did for Brittany.

Quinn continues to try and stop Rachel from pushing her forward just as a staff member quickly grabs her and pulls her in much to her protest. "No! No! Rachel no! Santana!" Her eyes are wide as she exchanges looks with the two young women. Both of them have glassy brown eyes as they watch their blondes with the same pain they both feel.

"Lower away!"

The boat begins to lower down as Rachel and Santana watch their two beloved protest and sob uncontrollably. Santana tries to hold the tears in as Rachel does the same, but they can't hold them any longer as they make a trail down their cheeks. Their eyes never leave the two women till they hit the water and begin to row away from the boat. Even in the distance they can see Brittany and Quinn holding each other, hoping to comfort the other from the terrible pang in their chests.

Rachel sniffles, wiping her tears away furiously. "We're going to die Santana," she concludes, finally turning her gaze away from the boat and back to the young woman next to her. Santana continues to watch the boat, until finally taking in Rachel's presences. "Aren't we?" She breaths out.

"If we give up now, we're already dead. The least we can do is give ourselves a fighting chance. We'll figure something out," she tells her, walking away from where the boat was launched to find another way for them to be safe, unaware of what lies ahead.

* * *

><p><em>Probably didn't expect that, did you? Anyway, I appreciate the reviews and I'm sorry this is late. I guess when you base a story off a movie you have to keep watching it consistently; at least that happens to me. Well since I work at the movies, Titanic 3D is playing in like two theaters and well when you hear My Heart Will Go On every time you clean the theater, you begin to miss certain things a.k.a this story. So I'm planning to finish it, I told you I would. It's not done and it's only just beginning. You will see the outcome of Rachel and Santana shortly. Please review again and let me know what you think.<em>

_Also no poem in the beginning because I don't think Santana would have the time to write during this time. So maybe next chapter, it'll be in her thought process, now that Brittany is safe._


	10. Chapter 10

_-I'll find my way back to you. In this life or another. You're my heart and my soul. You've taken over every part of me and as the abyss swallows me whole, know that no will take the feelings we've share or have away. - Santana Lopez  
><em>

_April 14__th__, 1922_

…

As Brittany gazes out of the apartment, remembering how Santana looked at her that night—how much love was instilled in her eyes. She didn't need to say it back, she already knew how she felt about her. It killed her inside to leave Santana. She has flashbacks of that night of what she would've done differently. She would've jumped back on the ship and ran to her, and Santana would hold her in her arms. She'd tell her that she couldn't do it and that's her deepest regret. At least if that happened, she would've been with her the entire time. Instead she's left in a lifeboat with Quinn, while they bawl their eyes out watching as the Titanic suffers its demise.

She folds her arms together, rubbing her hands against them, feeling like as if a draft as taken over, sending chills down her spine. Ten years seemed like it was just yesterday and here she is, alive and well after so many people lost their lives that day.

She licks her lips as sadness takes over her entire body. She sighs heavily, sitting back down on her bed. She lays flat on the mattress, before she drifts into a deep sleep.

…

_April 14__th__, 1912_

Santana and Rachel push through the even larger crowd. It seems as if the people only have grown as the ship sinks further and further down. The water has made its way into the first two compartments and as Santana and Rachel search for another way around the ship for safety, they begin to get pushed and shoved.

Santana pulls Rachel up on a platform to overlook the other side of the ship, searching for any other sign of civilization. Rachel's breath hitches as she runs her hand through her hair in despair. She feels her throat close up as she sees the bow sinks forward. Her eyes begin to water in search for anything.

"They're all gone. All the boats are gone," she breaths out and Santana continues looking. Usually she has all the answers, but this was something she just couldn't fix. The important thing is Brittany and Quinn are safe, but Rachel needed to be safe too, for Quinn's sake. She couldn't live with herself if something happened to Rachel.

She jumps off the platform and pulls Rachel with her. She takes her hand and guides her through the throng of people as they scream in horror, also discovering the lack of boats. They pass a group of men tossing the rest of furniture off the ship.

"What are you thinking Santana?" Rachel finally asks as they pull through. She knows Santana's determined to go somewhere—where, she didn't know, but Santana had some form of a plan in her head that she refused to share.

"How's your swimming Berry?" She asks semi sarcastically. Rachel's eyes widen as Santana grabs a rail to pull them further up to the stern of the ship.

"I'm from New York Santana, we don't swim much there," she replies and Santana turns her head, chuckling at her. She shakes her head amused—even under the circumstances, she's surprised by the fact that she can be amused by the young woman.

"Well it's time to learn," she exclaims, pulling them further up past a priest saying prayers for a few people. She stands there for a moment, then looks up at the sky, knowing her parents are looking down at her. The only strength she believes in or needs to believe in is them—as of now, there is no God.

"I'm Jewish, those prayers can't save me," she hears Rachel say breathlessly and Santana smiles, laughing at her, before pulling her forward and over the sterns rails.

"Step up and over, just hang on," Santana instructs and Rachel nods, holding her hand out for Santana to take. She takes it gladly and holds it tightly as they watch the boat lift up slowly. Some people slide down the dock, not able to grab hold of anything in time.

Rachel and Santana look at one another, as if thinking the same thing. There is a high chance they won't survive this. That they'll never see Brittany nor Quinn again and it's like as if flashes of everything they've had with the two women comes into their view.

Rachel begins to think back when she first met Quinn. Her head tilted back soaking up the sun and how her hair was just blowing in the wind. She remembers thinking that she was the most beautiful woman she has ever laid eyes on. She just couldn't take her eyes off her, no matter how hard she tried. She always believed attraction was a beautiful thing, whether she ended up with a man or woman was the mysterious thing about it—she found it intriguing, but she knew. She knew Quinn was right for her—she was the one she was going to spend the rest of her life with.

Asking for a cigarette seemed like the perfect conversation starter and she learned a lot about the woman that day and every day since. When they spent their first night out together, things couldn't have gone more perfectly. Perhaps it was the chivalrous side of her and the absolute desire she had for her that she desperately wanted to kiss her and when their lips locked it was like fire and ice mixing as one and nothing was unobtainable.

Then the first night they made love, how passionate it was, how slow it was. With each kiss and touch, she remembers taking her time to memorize every part of Quinn. How each ridge and curve of her body met with the next, where each freckle or scar laid. The way Quinn wrapped herself around her body, how securely she pushed herself further into her embrace, and how she did the same. It wasn't hard to tell how much Quinn loved her that night. In her eyes, in her actions, she knew—no one had to say it.

Santana laces her fingers with Rachel's and the smaller brunette looks down at them, then up at Santana's waiting brown eyes. She gives her a firm nod as they watch the boat slowly make its way down. It's unbelievable to Santana how much has occurred in these four days.

How when she first met Rachel that day on the deck, but the only eyes she had for was the tall blonde, standing at the top deck, deep in concentration, her eyes glued to a book—she later discovered was poetry. The way her hair was pulled out of her eyes, but it still blew behind her. She took her breath away and all she could do was write about her. She knew nothing about her, but she knew she was an angel sent to her.

Then that night where she saved her life, it was like God had laid a hand and fate brought them together. Even under the circumstances of her being engaged and them in different statures, it's like they both knew that night something was there between them. Whatever it was, they needed to figure it out.

The night after the horribly gone wrong dinner, Santana was sure it's what brought them together. She opened up to her—someone she barely knew and told her of her parents. The forbidden love they shared because in some way she wanted Brittany to know it was possible to love someone even though she shouldn't. To take the chance and she did. She showed up at the bench and let herself be embraced by the love Santana had been showering her with since the moment they met.

They consummated that love, it was passionate, it was raw and erotic all at the same time, and Santana couldn't have picked a better person to share her most intimate desires with for the last time. The possibility of never seeing Brittany again hurt, but at the same time, Santana was okay with that thought. At least she experienced true love before her life ended and she'll be forever grateful of everything that Brittany is.

…

In the distance, Brittany and Quinn watch the boat stand up on its bow. They can hear the distant screams and could see several passengers sliding down the dock into the water, while some have already jumped in, not giving themselves a fighting chance.

Their cheeks are deep red from the weather and their cries. Brittany wraps her arms around Quinn as she begins to cry again into her shoulder, burying her head further into her embrace. Things aren't meant to happen like this. This shouldn't be happening right now. Both Rachel and Santana are supposed to be with them and they had to be the chivalrous ones and push them on board to save them.

"I should be on there with them," Quinn breaths out into Brittany not taking her eyes off the boat as it cracks in half before their eyes. Brittany's body begins to shake at the sound of the wood splitting in two, knowing people are being sucked between the split that it just made. The entire scene is just a twisted, morbid nightmare she wants to wake up from.

"No one deserves to be on there with anyone," Brittany simply replies, rubbing her hand against Quinn's shoulder. From where she sits she could hear the creaking of the bow's half sliding down under the water, taking the rest of the boat with it, pushing the sterns side up straight. To think it's even possible for a ship of such scale to be able to do such a thing is absolutely mad.

The creaking only increases as the stern slowly begins its trail down, ready to be sucked under the surface with the other half of the ship. Both women sit there watching as it does so, desperately hoping that their beloveds got on another lifeboat. Praying that neither one of them are on that boat as it completely sucks underneath the Atlantic Ocean, where it'll rest for decades.

…

The water accumulates closer and closer to them and Rachel exchanges a fearful look with Santana, who tried to be strong for the other woman, but she couldn't. So many thoughts were racing through her mind—as if her life is flashing before her and all she could do is clutch tighter to Rachel's hand.

"On the count of three take a deep breath," she speaks and Rachel nods furiously as tears slowly stream down her cheeks. Thoughts of Quinn rush through her head and she can't force back the tears any longer. Santana looks over at Rachel for a split moment and her eyes are still peeled forward at the water sucking the ship further and further down. "Ready?" She asks finally and Rachel turns her gaze to Santana. She isn't ready, but what other choice does she have?

Rachel gulps and nods, beginning to suck in deep breaths in and out as Santana continues to keep her eyes locked with hers doing the same.

"One," she begins to count.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply.

"Two,"

Inhale, exhale.

"Three!"

Sucking in the final breath, the boat gulfs them down with the rest of the people on board. Santana holds Rachel's hand tightly, pulling her as hard as she could to her as to not lose her, for Quinn's sake. Santana takes in Rachel's presences under the water, how difficult it is for her to hold her breath under the icy abyss.

Santana too was having difficulty and as she looks up at the surface of the water, how the moon reflects brilliantly off the dark water. As soon as she breaks the serenity will be over. She'll break the surface and screams and calls for help will engulf her ears and it won't be so peaceful. Being stuck under the water doesn't seem so bad right now. But to not fight to get back to Brittany and get Rachel back to Quinn would be her greatest regret.

She pulls Rachel up as she comes up behind her. Rachel is coughing the water out of her lungs as her head comes up to the surface. Santana grabs her waist and pulls her with her as Rachel continues to cough up all the water that accumulated in her lungs.

"Try kicking your legs," Santana breaths out as cool fog engulfs it. She's freezing and she knows Rachel is as well, but when she suggests the action, Rachel instantly does as she is told. They push through the screaming passengers, dodging as many of them as possible from pushing them down. Everyone is looking for something to grab, anything, even if it need be a person.

She pulls Rachel up next to her and pushes further through the crowd. Frost as begun to form on both their dark hair, but neither girl could care right now. They needed to find something; anything to use for leverage out of this icy water before it overtakes their bodies.

In the short distance, they spot a large piece and Santana kicks faster and faster. "Come on Rachel, kick harder!" She yells to her as Rachel does as she's told, breathing heavily, feeling the cold slowly beginning to overtake her body.

They make it to the fire place mantel and Santana pushes Rachel up on it. Rachel's chest raises up and down quickly as she tries to catch her breath. For a moment, Santana lets her rest there, knowing just how much it probably hurts right now. Not even realizing her own state, Santana just wanted to save everyone else—she didn't need to save herself.

Rachel turns over, holding her hand out for Santana pulling her only to have it begin to tip. "Whoa, whoa, hold on," Santana says with a shiver, steading it enough so Rachel doesn't slip off. She swims around to the end of it that has Rachel's feet on it, before climbing up on it as Rachel forces most of her weight on the front. Santana struggles, losing strength by the second, only to have Rachel turn around ready to grab her.

"Rachel it's no use," she tells her, sliding off back into the water, letting the cold engulf her body again.

Rachel just watches her from the mantel, shaking her head. "No, I'm not leaving you in there. You will die if you don't get out," she shivers and Santana looks down at the mantel's print and designs. She begins to trace the lines of it with her finger, her thoughts roaming elsewhere.

"Do you hear me Santana? I'm not letting you die," Rachel pushes, moving Santana's eyes up to her. They're intense and the fire in them warms Santana almost instantly. "For Brittany and for Quinn," she adds softly and Santana looks off in the distance at the lifeboats that remain a safe distance away from the still yelling crowd.

She knew Brittany and Quinn were over there, wondering what their fate was. If they got on a lifeboat like they did or if they're stuck in this water. Will they freeze to death? Will they find somewhat higher ground to keep them out of the water? For Brittany and Quinn, she needed to at least try. She turns back to Rachel's waiting brown eyes of fire and nods.

She swims back around to the end and Rachel sits back on the front with her entire weight, holding her hand out. Santana takes deep breaths before pulling herself halfway out of the water, grasping Rachel's wrist. Rachel pulls her forward with a forceful tug and Santana collapses on top of Rachel. Both breathless, with absolute no strength left in them, they lay there.

"We won't tell Brittany and Quinn about this," Rachel jests with a shiver as Santana lays on top of her. Santana chuckles deeply, feeling the cold taking over, but nods in agreement.

"It wouldn't go over well with Lucy that is for sure," Santana replies and Rachel just shakes her head furiously, letting their breathing return back to normal. They lay there for a few moments, taking in the others breathing, before Rachel engulfs Santana in her arms. Santana's eyes search Rachel's, wondering what she was doing—if it was a friendly gesture or what.

"To keep you warm. You laying this way is helping me a little, but we have to help you," Rachel explains and Santana nods in understanding, wrapping her arms fully around Rachel, burying herself into her embrace. As uncomfortable as she thought it'd be, it really wasn't to be in her arms. She just wanted a different pair of arms—a different pair of _warm_ arms to be wrapped around her, but Rachel's will have to do for now.

* * *

><p><strong>I was going to hold off on updating this, but I couldn't do that when the 100 year anniversary is today. How could I do that? You guys understand. Anyway, Rachel and Santana aren't out of the woods (or danger) yet. The thing I hated about the movie is seriously, they could've both gotten on that piece in the water, if they tried harder. One time does not mean shit. She could've begged him to get up. They could've laid on each other (via. Santana and Rachel). It was possible, but for purposes for the plot they wanted him to die for the effect of it all, so that was that. Anyway, apologies for my tiny mini rant there. Thank you guys so much for the reviews, glad to see you haven't forgotten about the story and be mindful there will be about two chapters left after this, so till then please review.<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

__**This is SUPER late and I'm sorry. I really couldn't figure out how to end this in two chapters, but only one realistically. However, I gave it some thoughts and finally figured it out. The outcome was my mother's idea, so really if you don't like how it turned out it's not my fault; it's hers. Anyway, this is short, but next chapter will be longer and it's the last one, so there you go. So let me know what you think. Probably not my best writing, but I tried my best.  
><strong>

_April 14__th__, 1922_

…

The door opens in Brittany's flat and upon seeing the sleeping blonde, the bed shifts and arms wrap around her. The tear stains are visible on Brittany's pale cheek as a hand slightly caresses it, the stickiness keeping their fingers in place for a moment longer. Brittany buries herself further into their arms and lets out a deep sigh the other occupant is sure she's been holding.

They get more comfortable and wrap her further into their embrace, before Brittany stirs from her slumber. She wakes gently, half expecting the person she loves so strongly, but when she's met with hazel, it's like her dream deceived her. She grew fond of the other woman and no doubt they've grown close. They even opened their own shop underneath their flat hence where Quinn has been.

Brittany had some money tucked away the day of the sinking and it helped them land the storefront, they just knew they needed a well thought out business plan, so they got into textiles and creating many works of art with fabrics. Brittany writes and even got her ventures published two years after the sinking, but her mind had to wander to a dark place.

She told the story differently—very differently; from Santana's end perhaps to hide her identity in case Finn or her mother tried to locate her. She didn't want to risk it. She adores her life now. She has responsibilities, but she makes her own money and doesn't need a man to provide for her, she has a dear friend, but on bad days she reminds her a lot of the woman she loves and it's terrifying to sometimes get up in the morning.

"It's been ten years today Quinn," Brittany mumbles into her chest and Quinn merely nods. She too lost with nowhere to run. Quinn is prone to hiding her feelings, so she never burdens Brittany with her thoughts of Rachel.

"It feels just as hard as the first," Brittany breaths out as new tears form and Quinn tightens her grip on the other woman, rubbing circles up and down her clothed back.

"We must learn to move on Brittany. You can't keep hiding away in this place every year; we have a business to run. Tragedy strikes every day, but people move on—it is how it should be," Quinn responds and Brittany pulls away looking at her in disbelief. "It is time for closer my friend," Quinn adds taking in everything from Brittany's piercing blues into her deep hazels.

Brittany knows the other woman is right. How must she live a life when every year is just another weight being dropped upon her? How can she move on and learn to be happy is the question.

…

_April 15__th__, 1912_

_Carpathia—New York, New York_

Upon getting on the ship out of their rescue boats, Brittany and Quinn instantly sprinted to third class survivors. There weren't many, some children, some women, some men even, but not _their_ women. Quinn separates from Brittany looking on one side, hoping to maybe locate them by talking to a few people she knew from third class, while Brittany continued searching onward.

When she keeps hitting dead ends, her eyes begin to blur over with tears. _This is not happening_, she thinks as they spill over—not able to locate Santana nor Rachel for that matter. She searches near and far on that part of the ship, before silently sobbing. She walks over to one of the officers and stands there.

"What is your name?" He asks and Brittany looks down to the wooden deck of the _Carpathia_. Tears still silently streaming down her powder like cheeks.

"Lopez. Brittany Lopez," she says and while the officer looks upon her curiously, he doesn't question the last name.

He merely nods and as he begins to walk away, she grabs his arm gently. He stops and looks back as she continues to stare down at the ground. "Is—um—is Santana Lopez on this ship?" She shivers in complete and utter fear. He looks down at the list of names he's collected and runs over them, before getting to the last one.

He looks up at her solemnly and shakes his head. "No—I'm sorry m'am. She is not," he tells her in a sympathetic tone. She just nods frantically as her face scrunches up in pain. The pain in her chest washes over her entire body, before her knees buckle and they hit the deck with a force.

The officer is there to comfort her just as Quinn runs up to her and nods for the man, insisting she's got it. She rubs circles on her back in a soothing matter, before engulfing her in her arms. Brittany cries into her chest, wetting her dress with her tears. She wants to stop. Her breathing is nonexistent, but as her body shakes uncontrollably she knows, no amount of soothing will calm her down.

"She's—she's—she's gone," she manages to get out between sobs and Quinn looks down at her as if she's lying.

"Are you certain?" Quinn asks and Brittany merely nods as she cries harder than she ever has before. Quinn tightens her hold around her friend, knowing that if that's the case, then there is no chance her love made it out alive either, and upon that thought, a single tear begins to make its way down her cheek as she tries desperately to blink any new ones back.

…

_April 15__th__, 1922_

Brittany wanders around the shop. Today still is considered ten years to her since reports state the Titanic didn't officially sink until that morning. She tried with all her must to avoid the pain coursing through her because she knew Quinn was right. They needed to move forward. They had a business to run and they had a right to be happy.

Many men made advances at them every day, promising them they'd never have to work again in their lives. She's heard it all before—Quinn hasn't, but even she wasn't one to be bribed by such a promise.

She goes into the back to look through the fabrics that had just been shipped to them as Quinn is off bringing the orders to their clients.

Quinn is dressed in her best dress, finally having more clothes to look more professional. Regardless of the tragedy, she was thankful to have met Brittany. She never thought they'd be all that close, but death brings many people together unexpectedly.

She wears a hat to shield the sun's blistering rays from her face. She smiles as she passes a few people, greeting her with the tip of their hats or small bows from the women. She's learned it was a form of respect and for once she truly felt respected. Before when Santana and she were living day to day as if they had no care in the world, they were given none of that respect. She envied the riches hopelessly so just for that purpose. But she's heard the stories from Brittany and how truly lonely it is to be stuck in a life where you have to keep up appearances.

It's different now because everyone is well aware what they've gone through—what they endured on those days on the ship. Brittany wrote an entire memoir as Quinn added a few of her own details to the book. Brittany wasn't so concerned when she placed Quinn's name down, seeing as Finn nor her mother knew of the girl. Having to have to change her lover to a man was a difficult thing to express, but she had no choice if they both wanted it to sell—both having to make that sacrifice. But who knows—it could make a romantic story one day for the ages.

As Quinn's shoes clicked on the pavement she quickly crossed the street to get to her first delivery. Eventually they would hire a boy or young woman to do it for them, but since they're just starting out and are slowly becoming successful—for now this will have to do.

Brittany measures out some fabric for a client just as the bell goes off on the door. She looks up from her work and steps out from the back. She grabs her paper and pen close by, ready to take the person's order.

The person is dressed in a simple dress with their hair pulled back in a bun. Brittany was well aware that it was a woman. She has yet to turn around as she takes in the tiny shop that she and Quinn built from the ground up. Most women who do step into the place are overwhelmed by the success they've accomplished in such a short time being that they are women and no men are involved in the business at all. It's probably why they're so well liked.

"Can I help you ma'am?" Brittany finally asks softly and when the woman turns around, her mouth goes dry.

Quinn steps into the dress shop just down the street and is instantly greeted by smiles from the several women sewing up seams. She stands there, waiting patiently holding the fabric the owner of the shop requested.

She wasn't sure why out of all the professions in the world, why she and Brittany decided textiles was the way of life. It was a resource sure, because we all need clothes and in America, fabrics are rather limited hence why they have theirs imported in from other countries. Brittany had some contacts—she supposed she should be thankful for Brittany's past life in some way.

An elderly woman comes out and greets Quinn with a warm grin.

"My Miss Lucy you look breathtaking. How you do not have a man still is hard to believe," she compliments and Quinn only laughs slightly. She's Quinn to her close friends, but she knew that Quinn wasn't a very well-known name, so Lucy seemed to fit for the business aspect of her life.

"Well it's their loss, right?" She adds and Quinn merely nods in agreement, not having the heart to tell the woman of her orientation. It wasn't like it's been spoken of before. She's heard of people who fancy the same gender getting brutally beaten all over the world so much so that there are underground meets just to keep the police at bay. Last thing she wanted was for Brittany nor her to become a public target—their business would be ruined.

"Mrs. Harrington I have the order you requested," she tells her politely and the woman sits in her chair, placing her cane against her desk as she rubs her fingertips along the fabric. The quality is impeccable and no customer expects anything less from the two young women.

The older women looks up at Quinn and smiles widely. "It is exactly what we needed. Thank you for getting it here so quickly," she praises and Quinn just nods. Mrs. Harrington is one of their most beloved clients and they'd do almost anything for her. If she needed a certain piece on a short deadline—they'd make it happen.

Mrs. Harrington gets up and goes around the back to pay the woman for her services. Quinn loved her job—she loved having the responsibility, but even more so she loved having full say in everything with this company with Brittany's help of course, but they always managed to be on the same page whenever it came to their business.

However their lives weren't all just business. The first couple of years around this time, they had to close shop because they just couldn't handle people. Clients understood too since they were well aware of the girls' being a part of the Titanic. With the memoirs out with Quinn's name on it and Brittany's writing, it was hard not to be aware. For Brittany's safety, Quinn took ownership for the writing—it was Brittany's idea and with much fighting Quinn agreed. She just didn't like the idea of taking ownership of something she didn't do, but after reading the first draft she knew Brittany needed this published. She knew that hers and Santana's story needed to be told and now it has—the world has now seen it.

Mrs. Harrington returns with her payment and places it in Quinn's hands. "How are you doing dear?" she well aware of their history as well.

Quinn sighs deeply, casting her eyes to the hardwood floorboards that creak just under her weight. She looks back up at her, grimacing. "Ten years and it's still fresh in my mind," she breaths out, shaking her head gently.

The other woman looks on sympathetically. "You and Brittany are very strong young women. Strongest ones I know. I hope you make it through and let your lost loves never be forgotten, but just enough so you can let new love in," she tells her. Quinn knows the woman read the memoir—knowing that Brittany wrote stuff about her and Rachel. It was harder reading about them than anything else. Yes, granted Santana was her best friend, but reading how envious of them Brittany was when she saw them at the little party dancing together, when they held hands so openly—it broke her heart because she remembers being on the other side. She remembers feeling Rachel's soft fingers against her skin and lacing them together with her own. Sometimes it feels as if she can still feel her.

Quinn lets out a shaky breath, nodding distantly. "Thank you miss," she says quietly, feeling the tears welling up in her hazel eyes. She quickly composes herself because to tell Brittany that they must move on, yet she's on the other side of town ready to cry her eyes out—well that wouldn't be fair.

"Well Mrs. Harrington, I must be off. I have other orders to deliver. I will see you soon, yes?" Quinn adds and the older woman nods, thanking her again for her speedy delivery and Quinn is out the shop doors not too soon after. Unaware of what's ahead of her.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Last chapter guys. This wasn't proofed because I wanted to get this out for you as soon as I finished it. With work and other stories this seemed to have been placed on the back burner, but it is finished; finally. Like I said, the ending was my mom's idea, so I hope you like the final chapter and please review one last time.**  
><em>

_April 15__th__, 1922_

Life stood still at that moment, but the world still spun. It was like a ghostly presence took over the young woman that stood before Brittany. The brown orbs of the other woman watched on as Brittany tried desperately to make sense of it all, but she couldn't. She was at a loss of words as they locked eyes and it only made sense.

"Brittany," the young woman finally breathed out and Brittany walked around the counter at the sound of that angelic voice, wrapping her arms around her petite frame. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes and it seemed like the only natural thing to do was to cry.

"We've missed you," she manages and the young woman brings her slender arms around her much taller frame burying her head into her chest.

"Yes, me too," she responds and gulps, pulling away to offer her a much needed courageous smile. It is returned, but painfully so. "Is Quinn with you?" She finally questions and Brittany looks down at the hardwood floor, shuffling her shoes against it.

"Yes—she's running an order to one of our clients," Brittany turns around to hide behind the counter and the brunette merely nods, not knowing how to respond. It's been ten years no less, so how does one respond when you've missed so much?

"My mother told me that there was a business privately owned by two women in the city. I wasn't one to believe it, but I had to see it for myself seeing as we needed fabrics and such," she finally states her business of being in their establishment. "However, she told me it was owned by two Titanic survivors—it gave me hope, I suppose," she adds, taking small strides around the store, unraveling her scarf in the process to place it down on a nearby chair.

Brittany watches her movements with so much precision and she tries desperately to get the words out she's craved to ask for ten years, but she just can't. She just now came to the conclusion that she needed to give herself peace and here is the one person who could change everything.

"Rachel? What happened that night?" Brittany asks quietly fidgeting her place. They lock eyes again and it is only for a moment that Rachel sees the pain in Brittany's eyes. She's not over it, hell nor is she and she's positive the rest of the survivors aren't over their loved ones lost.

"Life works in mysterious ways, doesn't it?" She sighs, turning away from her to collect her thoughts. She has a right to know what happened when they placed Quinn and her on those boats. She in takes a breath, before letting it out deeply to turn back to the begging young woman; in her eyes it was enough to show the desperation she harbors.

"We went down with it," she begins quietly, looking down at her fingers then gave herself enough strength to continue. "She pulled us to the safety of a piece of debris and pushed me up. When she went to get up, it tipped and she was willing to give up," her voice cracks a little at the distant memory that yet still felt so fresh in her mind. Watching the way the cold engulfed Santana and how her body was beginning to shut down. How she gave her the strength to push forward, so that one day they could reunite with the ones they loved.

"She's selfless, you know?" Rachel breaths out, her eyes glassy meeting Brittany's now glossed over blue orbs that match the sea. Brittany nods furiously, knowing it held truth. It wouldn't be true if she didn't do what she did ten years ago—how she wished she would've been that selfless and jumped off to be with her. "But I made her get back up and we used each other's body heat to hopefully keep our body temperature up," she continued further getting lost in her memories—or nightmares.

_It's been hours and the rest of the sea seemed to quiet down with just the mere sounds of the swishing back and forth. Some people still screamed or tried to keep themselves a float, regardless of their life vests. While others used their arms and legs to keep the blood flowing through their nearly numbed bodies. _

_Off in the near distance, Santana laid on Rachel, their arms still engulfed around each other. Their breathing was unsteady and their once tan complexions are a deep purple blue color that could be freezing to the touch. Frost has taken over their hair as their lips changed the same color as their skin. _

"_I—know—one—one thing, I can't—w—wait to be wrapped up in a—w—warm body again," Santana shivers into Rachel's neck and if she had the strength she would've slapped her, but instead she could only scoff a reply. _

"_You are—st—still as rude as—ev—ever," Rachel replies as Santana chuckles softly, coughing just a little as her breath can be easily visible in the cool night. _

"_When—are—they—going to—c—come?" Rachel asks, twisting her neck a little bit to see in the far distance the life boats that still wait for the Carpathia's arrival. Santana swallows hard, breathing heavily, before offering the other young woman a shrug, burying herself further into Rachel. She needed heat as she couldn't feel her entire body._

"_I think—I will—rest—my eyes," she chatters, closing her eyes as she rests her head on her chest. Rachel nods distantly, keeping her eyes peeled at the boats in a distance, hoping that one of them will just come soon._

…

_An hour later, the faint screams have died down and the water has calmed down immensely. Rachel opens her eyes to find herself in a bed and a gown. She tiredly looks around at the pale white walls as nurses rush around to other patients. It's a community hospital that they've set up for the people that need medical attention. She lifts her hands and rubs her eyes, taking in her pale complexion. The blood hasn't rushed fully back into her body. _

_The rain pitter patters against the window behind her bed, but all she can think about is confusion. How did she get out of the water? Where is Santana? Her eyes widen at the thought of Santana and Brittany—Quinn. What if they went looking for her and they couldn't find her because she's here? She sits up frantically only to have a rush of dizziness hit her._

"_Whoa dear, take it slow," a nurse comes up to her dressed in all white. Rachel takes in her presence—she seemed like a dear woman, but she needed to find her friends and her lover._

"_Where am I? What happened?" She asks fearfully, knowing she's at least in America based on the woman not having an accent. _

_She checks her chart briefly, casting her eyes on the lost young woman. "You're in New York. They pulled you and another girl out of the water after seeing the rise and fall of your breathing when they passed the debris you were laying on," she explains and Rachel gulps—that means they have Santana. _

"_Is she alright?" She asks softly, hoping she is just as fine as she is, but the woman's face doesn't teeter her worries. The woman grimaces at her, before placing her chart back in its place, walking to her side._

"_I'm afraid it's too soon to tell. You've come in early this morning and while you shared body heat, it wasn't enough for her. She has a serious case of hypothermia—there's no way to tell. She hasn't woken yet, but when she does, I'll be sure to let you know. I just need your names," she explains thoroughly. Rachel nods weakly at her, thanking her for the information she just disclosed._

"_Rachel Berry and her names Santana Lopez," she says still in her own thoughts as the woman walks away to let her get some more rest. She felt hopeless sitting in this bed, not being able to be by Santana's side to riddle any information back to Brittany or Quinn. Hell, she doesn't even know where they are nor where to look. She imagines they're in the same situation no less, but all she could do was do what the nurse said because she'll be no use weak._

"Rachel?" Rachel turns around and locks eyes with hazel eyes that belonged to the young woman standing in the doorway. They stand there stunned for what felt like an eternity. Rachel's breath has caught in her throat as Quinn has always had this effect on her. She's still just as beautiful as she remembered, if not more. She doesn't have to wear the same clothes every day seeing as business is doing well for her.

Quinn looks startled as if her love was brought back from the dead because that's exactly how she expected her to be. She didn't know how to react in this moment as her eyes brimmed with fresh tears as she advanced towards the smaller woman, pulling her close to her and capturing her lips with her own. Both women's tears fell freely as Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck, keeping her as close to her as possible.

Brittany watches in the distance, smiling softly at the interaction feeling that pool of envy hitting her with each move of their lips against the other. She was happy for them—they've found their way back to each other, but it didn't change anything. She still had to grieve and she still had to hold on to something; someone who will never come.

Rachel pulls away, placing another light kiss against Quinn's lips, turning back to Brittany who watched on sadly as Quinn wraps her arms securely around her lover. She pulls away from her embrace, locking her fingers with hers, walking towards Brittany.

"I have something I want to show you," she tells her softly. Brittany meets her eyes, nodding quietly before walking back around the counter as they quickly close up the shop, writing that it was an errand.

They walk down the street of the city to the subway where they take the train out to the country part where Rachel grew up happily. She wanted to experience the world—it was why she was in Europe to begin with, but it seems as though she won't be able to do that again since her mother refuses to let her take another boat after what happened. She always just chuckles at her protectiveness, looking out the window as she holds Quinn's hand, running her fingers over her knuckles soothingly.

Brittany watches each tree pass, wondering what it was that Rachel had to show her, but she knew if she asked Rachel wouldn't tell her. She sighs deeply as the buildings of the city disappear in the distance, loving the serenity of the country. It makes her think of the time Santana told her about where she lived. Her life always seemed to be at ease and she wanted to partake in all of those adventures with her. They swore they would, but she couldn't do it without her. It's not the same because that was the whole point—to do it _with_ Santana. To do everything with her. Tears make their way down her cheeks silently as her eyes remain peeled at the window, before she quickly brushes them away furiously—tired of crying.

The train comes to a halt and the women get up from their seats. As they do so, they step down and is met with the smell of fresh air and quietness—not the loud chatter of the city. Both blondes smile at that, liking the difference that a simple train ride can make. Not that they didn't love the city—it was glamorous and everything they knew it to be and more, but it was nice to have a change every now and again.

"It's not very far, so we'll walk," Rachel tells them as they walk down the road towards her home. Quinn's heard that Rachel came from a family that worked hard for a living and had the land, and animals to prove it. They had a farm where they'd sell off their crops and chicken eggs, milk; anything they could produce and they did well for themselves. However, her brother had to take over after her father got sick, but even so it was becoming too much for him alone, so they really weren't sure what to do. Her mother took up sewing as another source of income, so it explains where she gets her fabrics from now.

As they turn around the bend, her house comes into view and it's a very quant place, with white panels and black hinges on the windows, two stories. It was beautiful and Rachel smiled at Quinn's awestruck face, before leading them both to the home.

As they step through the gate, they hear in the distance voices in the back which causes them to walk around and see a girl stomping out of the barn with a young guy. She pushes him playfully as he laughs at whatever it is she said, but Brittany locks eyes on the female and finds herself growing a nervous pit in her stomach.

_A few days later, Rachel sits by Santana's bedside, having gotten a full body of health. While it was okay to leave, she couldn't leave Santana—not yet, not now. The doctor still said it was too soon to tell if she was going to make it, but they were doing everything they could. She has managed to get in touch with her mother to tell her she was alright and would be home soon, but she had to stay behind because of a friend. Her mother understood nonetheless, but she just wanted her daughter home and to never leave her sight again._

"_Santana, you're stronger than this," she whispers to the young woman who has gotten some of her color back in her face, so Rachel knew that there was still hope if the blood was circulating up to her puffy cheeks. All the doctor said to do was wait and hope for the best since there wasn't much they could do, but keep her warm. Even through all they went through in the water, neither one of them suffered from frostbite though, so that held some positivity she thought as she traced her lines of Santana's face with her eyes._

_She wouldn't be able to live with herself in Santana didn't wake up nor if she left her side. She may be prone to being on her own, but she didn't have Quinn by her side this time and she was in a hospital bed, she just couldn't have that on her conscious; not after all she's done for her too._

_She sits forward and takes Santana's hand in hers. "I'm with you," she tells her softly. "You and I may not have liked one another, but we're stuck with each other now, and I'm not leaving your side, not day, not tomorrow, not till you wake up," she finishes as her thumb runs over the top of her hand softly. Santana's hand remained limp for a few moments as Rachel continued watching for any signs of her condition changing. _

_Rachel blinked back a few tears before, placing her head on her arm to hold back from crying because she just couldn't anymore. She was too tired. She was just too tired._

_A thumb brushes over her knuckles and her head shoots up and she sees the faint movement of Santana's thumb caressing her skin. Her eyes widen and her mouth gaps open, before she turns around to find a nurse, doctor; anyone. _

"_Somebody help! She's awake!" She calls out, turning back to Santana with a big smile, laughing happily. "You hold on Santana. Don't you give up now," _

Rachel watches Brittany take in the young woman's presence in the distance. The sun is setting just behind the trees leaving the sky an orange tone. Quinn is just has dumbfounded, knowing exactly who that is in the distance.

The young woman looks up to see the three women, placing her hand over her eyes to get a better look. Her smile drops in disbelief as she takes in the short haired blonde next to Rachel then the one closer to the fence. She couldn't believe it as she took in her best friend next to her lover again, who also became her best friend and the young woman that only took four days to make her fall in love with her.

"_So your mother is alright with me living there?" Santana asks as they sit on the train to Rachel's home. They have no belongings, but the clothes on their backs and that's enough. Her mother is an excellent seamstress, so she will be willing to make them clothes, plus her father has leftover clothes as does her brother that Santana can wear if she doesn't want to wear dresses._

"_Yes, providing you pull your weight," Rachel responds, pointing to her as Santana nods, knowing she was planning to do so as it is. She couldn't live in someone else's home and not do something for them, whatever it may be. _

"_Anything she wants," she breaths out and Rachel gets up as the train comes to a halt at their stop, getting out with a hop as does Santana. They smile at the conductor, before making their way down the road._

"_Well my brother needs assistance on the farm. Do you think you can handle that? I'm sure the horses and the rest of them will warm up to you fairly quickly," Rachel suggests and Santana chuckles at the thought. She's never worked on a farm before, but she's always liked to think hard labor was in her blood, so who was she to turn down the challenge?_

"_Absolutely, just let him show me the ropes and we got ourselves a deal," she replies with a smile and Rachel laughs softly, nodding as they make their way around the bend, but Santana stops short placing her hand on the other young woman's shoulder._

"_Hey—thank you, for everything," she says sincerely and Rachel shrugs._

"_I should be thanking you. You nearly died for me," she tells her and Santana blinks for a moment, debating if it was true or not, but she supposed so since she suffered worse than Rachel did. _

"_Do you think we'll ever see them again?" Santana asks softly, having battled with that thought for some time now. Brittany still racked her brain every chance she had time to get into her head. Her smile, her laugh, those eyes, those lips, her touches, her skin, her body—everything and more; future plans that she never thought would come true now. She hoped, but now she couldn't be sure._

_Rachel shuffles her feet in the dirt, having thought about the same things, but now that it was in the light, she couldn't be sure. She wants to have all the answers and she wanted to believe they'd see their lovers again, but it was hard to say._

"_I don't know. I hope that if God has a sense of humor, he'd humor us," she responds back and they leave it at that. Leaving it up to God's will, not one to be religious, but what other choice do they have?_

Santana walks closer to the three young women and as she gets closer, Brittany darts towards her full speed. Santana smiles instantly as she does so, waiting for her and when she does so, she jumps into her arms, wrapping her legs around her waist, pulling her in a hard embrace. They pull away enough so Brittany can brush some strands of loose dark hair from her face, before capturing her lips with her own. Santana clutches on her tighter as Brittany wraps her arms around her neck, kissing her like her life depended on it. Every part of her became intoxicated with Santana's scent, touch, and kiss again and in this moment as Rachel and Quinn watch in the distance of their reuniting, they knew nothing would keep them apart again.


End file.
